Cid (cidneon)

Ray, people will come, Ray. They'll come to Iowa for reasons they can't even fathom. They'll turn up your driveway not knowing for sure why they're doing it. They'll arrive at your door as innocent as children, longing for the past. "Of course, we won't mind if you look around," you'll say. "It's only $20 per person." They'll pass over the money without even thinking about it, for it is money they have and peace they lack.