Conceived in the distant past, forgotten and overgrown, one might be surprised where a paper alley leads. While the obvious is found on well-worn streets, the truth may lie down a path less traveled.
The alley may not look like much. For a hundred years, its value rested in something more precious than money. The townspeople drove by a story forgotten by most, but not all.
In any small town, there are two people of insight: the pastor and the bartender. Strange how fresh blood can open interest in old wounds, and voices speak in the eventide. In your hands, you hold a paper alley. I dare you to find where it leads.
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