Denver's only goal lately was to keep Magnolia safe. Ever since learning that his mohawked lover was with child, he stuck beside her as much as possible. But Denver couldn't always sleep when Maggie did, and on this night he sat awake, staring at the ceiling.
I'm going to be a father, he thought, for the hundredth time. He still couldn't believe it. The mutt sighed and rolled over, closing his eyes again to hope for sleep. Minutes passed in darkness, but Denver's mind never slowed. It was still relatively early, and his frazzled nerves wanted nothing to do with the confined stillness of the bed. Finally, he roused himself slowly, careful not to wake his pale paramour. It wasn't too cold outside, but Denver grabbed his jacket anyway as he slipped out the front door, wishing for a cigarette.
The moon was bright in the sky, the night clear and eerily quiet for the hour. He could see his breath in the air as he glanced down the crumbling alleys and hallways, seeking a destination. Nothing came to mind, so he slowly trudged into the darkness, letting his restless feet carry him through the ruins in hopes of solace.
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