You know what they say about small towns and people you don’t want to see. Well, it’s a small town around here, small as there ever was. Empty, even. And I wander down dusty streets, peering into the shops, hoping that for once there’ll be a light on inside and I won’t just see my face reflected in the glass. “Hello? Anybody home?”
At night I go back to what might once have been a luxury apartment. Dirty, now. Dingy. I sleep on the plush shag carpet. Sometimes I cry, and sometimes I scream, because no one can hear me.