Hungry, I am so hungry, but not for love, no, I do not care for it anymore, I just want to eat. Last nights meal was good, sufficient enough for now; I need to work more, enough for a meal per night. The labour is hard and intense, I was not made to do this alone, but I block out the pain and the end result is a rewarding meal… something to enjoy… something to look forward to, something to keep me alive for another day.

As I am finding a place to sleep for the night I discover one of the very few dry spots. It is underneath the balcony of a hotel room. As I rest my head on the cold soil the thoughts come back. Eating away at me, I am missing something, I am not whole. I slowly succumb to sleep, even with the sly wind finding a way to infiltrate under my heavy old coat; I feel its icy kiss and miss the warmth of home, and mother.

I am awoken by a crunching sound; I am still but alert. I hear more sounds all around, and they are getting louder. I feel my heart begin to quicken ‘Yeah mate just going to walk down the shops’. A man strolls straight past me, I know I should not be here I am not welcome here. After feeling invisible for so long you begin to think others cannot even see you. He looks back, eyes widen as he sees me he looks at me with both anger and fear. ‘What do you think you are doing here, move along before I call the police!’. I get myself back together and begin to walk along, I need to find another place to call home for the night.

As I walk through the long dark city streets I search up and down in the hope of finding another dry patch to rest, I hate this feeling of isolation, if only I were not alone, I survive better with company. I grip the knife in my pocket, I don’t like violence but my survival instincts have taken over. When you are forced to stand alone, you realise what a cruel place the world can be to the vunurable, surviving is not easy…   we are all enemies out here, out in the dark… we have to be. I arrive near a bakery, the...