I had something, in my hand, just now. A minute ago. what was it? Sure it was there. Never mind, it’ll show up again maybe.

The rain, a gentle sound hitting the pools collecting around my feet. One thing about city life– lights look good reflected off pools of rain that collect around one’s feet. All that neon, looks good. And the blackness around it, moving.

Where is that damn thing… lighter it was. Need a smoke. Metal mesh starting to get uncomfortable under my ass, but walking away seems harder than staying put. Ahh, couple more minutes, then make a move.

There’s a wooden bench a bit further down the road, a different feel to it, slightly lower down which I don’t like too much. A bit too close to the ground. But I am sometimes too fussy about such details.

Found the damned lighter, in a pocket. Was sure it was in my left hand. Pocket full of chocolate wrappers and old bus tickets… got to keep hold of them, just to prove that you’ve been going somewhere or coming back from somewhere to get there. And I don’t throw chocolate wrappers on the street like some people do, I store them on me until I find a rubbish bin. Can’t stand litter thrown on the street. It spoils the view.

I’d really like to just lie down now, but the seats are designed in such a way that it’s impossible… they slope, for one thing. At just the right angle that as soon as you get comfortable, you relax to the degree that your body weight kind of settles to a critical mass where either you or the angle of the seat reach an algebra of incompatibility, and a strange twitch of gravity, momentum and kinetic energy act as one to tip you off… SPLASH!

I don’t know what to do. The wooden bench down the road is more comfortable, and more peaceful, away from the sounds of traffic. But something’s keeping me here, even though I know the cops will be touring shortly. I’ll have a smoke and think about it, reach some kind of decision.