It was around 11.30pm when this hill made a landfall.

I just wrapped up a night hours shift at the movie theatre and stayed behind to clean

the floors after the last screening because the usual guys were AWOL.

That left me sweeping up popcorn and being splooge filled condoms off the seat, alone,

well into the night.

Just to be clear, we aren't an adult theatre, but dark rooms gives people weird ideas.

Today was terrible too, but it's not like I had a choice, and you know how it is.

When I sloped off to the bus stop that night, feeling 300 years old and bloodshed eyes tingling

from the caustic disinfectant fumes, a stiff breeze could have crumbled me into dust and

blown me away, and frankly, I would have welcomed it.

To add insult, to insult, to insult, to injury, my car was in the shop.

This meant blowing an eighth of my wage that day on bus fare just to get home from work.

And doing the same tomorrow to get back.

Not to mention the added risk of getting nifed by a tweak of a pocket change while in transit.

It had happened to friends of mine in this city, and I didn't feel like joining that

ever-grown club.

It's almost funny, in a twisted kind of way.

I'd always known some screwed up things happened out here.

You see it on the news all the time.

Assault, robbery, organised crime, poverty and corruption out the ass, but let me tell you.

At night, I was about to see the other side of that coin.

The worst stuff going on out there.

...