There's a pier home to thousands of people. Overflowing with men and women from every walk of life. Side by side, hand in hand, gladly packing themselves onto the engrossing boardwalk. They relish the rides and relax on the wooden platforms, sitting on each other's shoulders, laying in each other's laps. But none dare to approach Derek Chandler. That pile of detritus and filth. He was the boardwalk's cross to bare... until she came.
Our faith comes in moments; our vice is habitual.
(Notice: Contains vulgar language that may be offensive to some readers. Contrary to what the picture suggests, there is no actual clop in this story. However, the topic a major point in both character development and the plot. Suggestive themes.)