The town had virtually closed down on the day of my burial, and the date was honored for many years thereafter. Growing up, I had never known, nor cou...ld I even have suspected, that Westervelt Park, in the center of town, had been named after me.After I had finished my reading, and dried my tears, I took a very long walk, winding up down near the waterfront. Jeremy and I had spent many wonderful hours down here. I remembered back to when we had first walked along the shore, holding hands and. She was writhing beneath me, moaning. “Fuck my shit, fuck my shit, fuck my filthy shit!!!”My balls were sending familiar signals and I increased the tempo, nearly shoving her across the ground and I thrust into her shit-hole. I couldn’t last, and starting spray-painting her shit-hole with my fuck juice. My cock was gushing cum, and her spasming shitter was clamping me like a velvet vice as she came with me. Cum cascaded from her cunt, drenching my thighs and running down my legs. I collapsed to. “Which route are we taking from here, north, south, or west? We’ve discussed it, but we never decided on it,” Raquel spoke up now.“True enough,” Eileen responded nervously.“I recommend going a different path. There’s no reason to head back the same damn way, is there?” Ryan urged us.“I agree. We’ll go south and cut through Virginia, then southern West Virginia, then Ohio, and then either Kentucky or Indiana next. We need to know what’s happened to our country since Doomsday, not just in. It looked like there was some sort of artists' convention and a wedding reception both being held in the hotel itself. From the entrance coming from the hotel lobby, she scanned the crowded bar. There were several large groups of obvious from the artist conventions, decked out in their ‘I’m wearing a statement clothes” and the like, boisterously talking trash about the art world in general. Most of the other tables were taken by duos or trios of men and women dressed in wedding casual pants.