So he rises from his house of cardboard and rotting blankets to greet the dawn. He lights the remainder of a cigarette discarded in the gutter overnight.
Slowly, slowly the rhythm of a city envelopes him and a tune comes to life in his mind. A song is singing in his ear ….
‘I’ve spent my days just chasing shadows
Looking for a winner
Set in my ways I have become
An unrepentant sinner
Surrounded by the also-rans
My fans are full time losers
They’re junkies, drunks and prostitutes
But beggars can’t be choosers.’
Such is life.
99 words – no more, no less.