It’s been parked behind the old flooring warehouse for years—rusted, wheel-less, half-swallowed by weeds. Most people walk past without even turning their heads. But if you look closely, the back seat breathes.
Blankets. Bowls. Fur.
It’s been parked behind the old flooring warehouse for years—rusted, wheel-less, half-swallowed by weeds. Most people walk past without even turning their heads. But if you look closely, the back seat breathes.
Blankets. Bowls. Fur.
