Flickering lights shine across the street dousing everyone in a dull rythmic orange glow . High sided armoured vehicles are parked at jagged angles on the rain soaked tarmac. Authorative people in suits shout, issuing orders to their subordinates trying to regain a sense of order from the chaos within the building. One man rips his helmet off and vomits into a storm drain, all the colour gone from his face.
I smile inwardly and flick the stub of the cigarette out of my hand and turn away from my scene. The heat is making the rain water steam, rising upward it clings to the building as if trying to contain what lies within it. I walk away down a litter strewn alleyway and no one bars my way as is only proper. Catching my coat on a metal railing I stoop to untangle it and a newspaper clipping catches my eye. "Family of Seven die in blaze", I see the message as clear as day. Standing back to my full hight I look into the shadows under a rusting iron fire escape and stretch out my arm.
Yanip comes to my call and steps in line beside me. I turn my face to his "Come little one, there is work to be done".
As is his way he does not reply.

NEXT

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GAV

reality bites
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