The darkening blue sky is thick with smog and a dull orange glow of the city refracting back within its cold veil. Under it, a man walks the crowded streets. Small vendors pack the streets. Thunderous caverns of music leak light out onto the neon-slick avenues. The frigid air is wet with a mist of breath as people flood the pavements. The man is as unrecognisable as any of them. But his mind is sober. His purpose is clear. Only in the morning will the city see the fruits of his labour and the handiwork of his knife.
Paddy Dobson
23rd January 2022