by Christina L. Usher
Warren’s girlfriend was dead and gone, or at least that’s what he told her mother. He ended the call, unable to deal with the shocked silence, and inched between the bed and dresser to stare out the window. The streetlights were broken outside. People lingered in the discrete darkness, muttering and drinking like no one could see them. Warren took a drag from his cigarette, ignoring the whispers in his head.