• As he stood there, eyes glazed and mouth watering, staring in the store window, he slowly started to drool. The saliva tipped over his cracked lips, ran down his sun baked chin and became lost in his scraggly black and grey beard. He wiped away the spit from his lips with a partially gloved hand. His fingers poked out of the tattered holes in the glove, nails black with dirt and grime. His clothes dangled off his scrawny, unfed figure like rags, all ripped and torn. A few little pink toes dug out from a small tear in the end of one of his shoes. He looked sad. There was no frown, but his eyes looked lost and the blankness of his face showed he was dispirited.

    As he stood there, nobody even brushed up against him as he daydreamed in front of the shop. They just weaved through the rush of people and quickly dodged past him. It was like he didn’t even exist. No one would notice if he was gone. Nobody would miss his tattered rags and torn gloves, his scraggy beard or his mismatching socks. If he disappeared it wouldn’t make a difference. He was alone and no one cared.

    As he stood there, alone, in the middle of the sidewalk, hundreds of bodies wriggling and squirming past each other. They all held their noses or covered their mouths as they passed him because of his lingering odour. He couldn’t remember the last time he showered and his teeth had become a browny-yellowish colour, stained from coffee and cigarettes. His breath smelled like cheap alcohol and he had a horrendous taste in his mouth that he just couldn’t get rid of. It was like dirt mixed with blood and puke.

    As he stood there, the echoing grumble of his stomach snapped him out of his daze. He hadn’t had food in almost two weeks and his stomach sounded like it was eating itself. He grasped at the now hollowed out place that used to be his belly. A slow aching pain began. He needed some food soon or he may not make it through the week.

    As he stood there, clutching his stomach gazing in through a store window he imagined what it would be like when he was finally able to go inside and buy a steak or a hamburger. He knew it wasn’t possible but it couldn’t hurt to dream. He slowly started to drag himself away down the street and into a back alley where no one would notice him. He had moved himself a few meters down the road when he heard someone say, “Hey, you there, do you need some help?” He slowly turned around.

    As he stood there, jaw dropped in awe the voice repeated, “Are you hungry? Do you want some food?” The voice came from a young man dressed in a suit and tie holding a briefcase. He had on a black and white checked scarf that wrapped around his neck and just covered his chin. His shoes were black leather and very shiny, and he had a smile stretched across his face. The young man walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, “I think you should come with me, I can get you all fixed up.”
    The man took his arm and led him down the street, through a small door next to a jewellery store and up a flight of stairs. At the top was another door, the man pulled out a large shiny brass ring hooked with more keys then you could count. He pulled out an old rusty one and slipped it through the lock. As he turned the key, many small clicks and screeches could be heard from the lock. One large thump ended it all and the door opened.
    As he stood there, he stared through the doorway into an open room. There was a small table in the middle and two chairs at either side. There was a couch pushed up against the wall underneath a little window and in front of it was a television atop a wooden cylindrical stand. There were a few paintings, plants and decorations but this wasn’t what the man was looking at. His dreary eyes were fixated on a small bed in the corner. The head and foot of the bead was made out of metal and a few stray springs were poking out of the sides but in his mind it was perfect.

    As he stood there, he noticed that there was a buffet of food atop the table. He wanted to rush forward and stuff his face with the glorious feast. The suited man turned to him and said, “All of this is yours if you can just promise me one thing.” The dirtied man nodded. The suited man leaned over as if to tell him something, then he suddenly stopped.

    As he stood there, he felt a slight tingling, a warm feeling inside him. A sharp pain came from his stomach. He looked down to see a steely silver knife jutting out from his stomach and the end clutched by a hand. He looked back up to see that the broad smile of the suited man had morphed into a glare, with his teeth bearing. “Promise me that you will get out of my sight!” he shouted as he shoved the scruffy man down the stairway. As he fell back, the man grabbed at the suit, his hand closing around the necktie. They both hurtled down the flight of stairs and slammed into the door at the bottom. Both bodies lay slumped on the floor.

    As he lay there, slumped on the floor, a river of blood ran from the hole in his stomach, forming a pool around him. He imagined he was back home, in the alleyway with his stray cat. He imagined he was sitting there with holes in his clothes rather than his stomach. He imagined he was back there with all he had ever needed. He imagined he was standing there surrounded by a wall of noise created by cars and crowds, safe and protected, in his cardboard castle.