"Dead White Girls" by Paul J. Garth in Out of the Gutter

He sneers into his whiskey. “Like it matters. Life out here doesn’t matter. Never has. You can tell that by looking at the sky during the day. All that blue above. You’re tiny under it. Massacres on the land. Under that sky. They didn’t matter. Blood flows in the dirt out here. Shit. People die and it comes to the same. Grief and faith. Convincing themselves there’s good out here, still. Until a dead white girl comes along, and then it’s all in their fucking faces.” Read story here.