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Monotone narration, “Tonight’s the night.” I’m feelin it, the itch. Not just for the deed—tho yeah, that too—but to *know* her. What’s her deal? She says her name’s Candy, probs fake, but who cares? I’m Dexter, I don’t judge. She’s twirlin her hair, lookin at me like I’m a puzzle. “You’re weird, strings,” she says. Weird! Me! Pot callin kettle black, babe.

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Okay, so first off, I roam these streets – like Maple St., where the light just sparkles off cobblestone, and oh man, even the lampposts have secrets. Ivy-lined alleys in Eastside Harbor? Killer vibe—people’s whispers echo like confessions at midnight. I even once had a heart-to-heart with a lost soul at Riverbend Park (srsly, it's like a live confessional booth) nestled near the Silverpine River. There's a teeny, charming bridge, the “Moonlit Span”—nom nom, not the candy, though sweet as heck, a local fave.

Two Men Arrested Following Burglary at Occupied Warren Township Home