I feel conscious about staring, not that he would care though, or perhaps even be aware of me staring, as further up the High Street, under an orange street light, the young woman is being held tightly by the outstretched arms of the angry young man, precisely in the same place she had rubbed her upper arm earlier.

He shakes her, then loosens one arm to point his finger into her face, calling her a stupid fucking cow as he does. For a moment, I wonder where her baby is, I even think about shouting something, maybe a "Hey" or an "Oi!" But I don't do anything, nothing at all. I stop caring, I just do, and then suddenly remember that a mini fish and chips down at the Fish King, past the bookies, is only £3.50. After quickly checking the time on my phone, I turn my back on them and head down the High Street in search of the wonders of highly saturated fats.

Turning away as the hollow shouts in the night begin to fade into the coldness, the frigid air muffling the sharpness of their reality, and soon they both are gone in this world where the judges so quickly become the judged.

I'm strolling away, my hot breath condensing into the cold night in front of me, my trials and tribulations sighing out into the world and passing me by as I walk through and beyond it all. The hot air rises upwards into the dark sky above towards a silver moon where men once walked.

7/7