@scvoy
he surfaced from the subway, hot and lethargic. stumbling slightly as the toe of his shoe caught on the chipped top stair. his heavy wool coat billowed in the sudden wind, a train entering the station and the breeze above ground caught him in a split-second maelstrom. without thinking he fell into step, a walk he’d done a thousand times before to his little apartment, just large enough for him and his leaning tower of paper-backs. a moment before he reached for the door to the cramped lobby he spotted his landlord, mrs krasinski, a portly lady in her 50s who seemed to struggle between choosing whether she adored or loathed him. jay ducked back, cursing under his breath, dodged round to the fire escape at the side of the building and squinted up at the metal ladder. he had never been athletic but his sudden and scorching need to be left alone was motivation enough. he’d done it several times before without breaking his neck at least.
“what the fuck?”
the person sprawled beside the dumpster was not the usual fare for this alleyway. where there weren’t slowly blooming bruises there was a coat of grime and scrapes. a wound at the guy’s side oozed an alarming amount of blood. the way he half-curled made him look like he’d been trying to hide. jay dropped to his knees in the filth of the side-street, quick grey eyes attempting to catalogue the extent of the injuries. “hey? can you hear me?”