Post by Beau Admin on Mar 3, 2012 16:25:16 GMT -5
Charleston, South Carolina had reached an ending point for tourism. A few years ago, the resulting storms from a hurricane 30 miles south of the coastal city tore through the streets, driving out the locals during a slow time of the year. When those who left returned and those who left reunited with their friends and families, the entire town that once stood so tall, had fallen to the ground in a deadly battle with nature. Nature physically won. Along with damages from the strong line of storms, the city “went to the dogs”. A few families stayed in town, while the others, bankrupt with nothing, left for a larger coastal town up north to start their lives over. Those who stayed did their best to repair the small town, but the population would never reach its previous 15,000, especially with so many strays in the streets. Before the disaster, the residents and tourists could all enjoy various activities held along the beaches of the Atlantic Ocean. Charleston was once home to many surf shops and trinket stores. Now, the city lived only off of hope, love, and cooperation. It was now home of the horribly broken. The dogs and humans worked together to keep the bruised town on its feet. Through everything, they kept their faith; they were beautifully shaken.
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