Nowhere, Kansas “This place looks like it was hit by a tornado”, I declared to my cousin who was holding her nose in disgust. There were shelves bent and knocked over with various products scattered around them. The ceiling and a couple walls had holes and dents in them, and the chalky drywall was scattered around the debrey. “It smells like a cow died in here”, my cousin muttered as we walked down the aisle of this tiny grocery store. The musty scent smelled something like a loaf of bread that had been molding for months, but wasn’t quite as strong as my cousin described as a rotting animal corpse. We were in the middle of Nowhere, Kansas. My dad, cousin,