May 19, 2018
Atlas had been hungry before. Several times. His anxiety medicine had always made him nauseous whenever he’d gotten near food and there were days when he just forgot to sit down and make himself eat.
So three days? Not really a big deal.
He still had a smile on his face as he made his way through the people gathered, so he figured he was probably not as bad as half the other slaves that had been brought in, so he wasn’t that concerned with talking to people/getting his card signed just yet.
