Mean Streets

I felt like a punk gangster schmoozing into the atmosphere under the low lit sky. It was a gloomy day and I could feel the city becoming abandoned at rush hour, everyone was heading home and I was heading out. The rain had already washed the ground and the air was ripe with the pleasant, dewy petrichor of the post-rain evening. Like a discerning local I made my way through unknown and deserted streets. A wrong turn could lead me into trouble but I had already embraced my valor and I guess that was the biggest deterrent; nobody dared to mess with me. The sombre streets put a song on my lips and I was grateful for being alive as I sashayed down the damp streets singing ‘staying alive’!