The man walked along the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, sunglasses on, hair cropped close. As he walked, he whistled a formless tune. As people passed, he would sometimes give them a bland smile, breaking the whistle, but most of the time he preferred to nod, as that allowed him to keep the tune rising and falling in his space.

“Hey, Aren, whacha doin?” he heard someone call. Aren paused, turned to see his friend Maggie across the street, walking with another young woman. He waved.

“Nuthin. Just getting back from the hall. Gotta go make some phone calls.”

“Come over after; we can shoot the breeze” Maggie called back.

“You got it!” Aren called back. He passed a couple in the street, who smiled at him as he tapped at his sunglasses and nodded, then began whistling again.

To read the rest of this story, see link to The Twilight Mirror and the New Dawn by Jordan Amar

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