The city had grown beyond all recognition. It didn't offer him protection anymore. He liked to play pool in the middle of the night and he watched with wonder the chaos on the streets. He hadn't seen people so messed up since the eighties. There were so many tendrils working through the place and none of them touched his heart. They could spend time together like mates. They could run round and round in circles and be missed. He could tell them what they wanted to hear and they would know no better. He could seek coherence in the bright colour strategy the city had adopted, with light dripping off every surface. There was still room for adventure; even now. And what he saw was worst decay than ever before. There was always the crying out, the phone that never rang, that marvellous friend from the past who never quite arrived. He was once again on a different shore. He moved easily between the present and the past, and would never have shared the secrets he so easily shared with strangers. He thought they could move forward and knew it was not to be. Would they hurt the ones they loved once again? Would they speak to me with clarity; or accept the carefully calculated cloak. He assumed an elaborate politeness which shielded an unkempt spirit. He sought his way through to that connection and knew it was not to be. In the middle of the night. Playing pool.
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