Night Walking

Gently, I picked up a rock from the pavement and smashed his windshield.

I felt no remorse; he never should have fucked with me in the first place. As the windshield shattered, lines of glass separating, like the veins of an emaciated man, the sounds of neighbors, fine and vigilant people of the area, could be heard resonating through the alleys and down from the rooftops.

"Shut up you faggot!"
"Get a life bozo! Go to sleep!"

And the insane Jewish mothers, curlers in hair, last bon-bon still on their breath, shouting from a distance..

"Don't you know what time it is? God damn --"
"Johnny?!! Is that you? You magg--"

And the variety of commentary that could be heard reverberating continued. I thought to myself, I'm not Jewish, I'm crazy. I walked away from the vehicle slowly. hoping that those who could see me know that I am just an innocent passerby, a good samaritan like them, frustrated and awake at this ungodly hour. I probably had just come out, looking for the rogue creating all the racket. As I walked my black shoes buckled against the dark pavement, like a strained horse galloping away from the action. It didn't help that my shirt was bright yellow or that I had a sizeable chunk of my shoulder missing, blood pouring out of it slowly. It had been a few hours since that incident and I had luckily eluded my captors by jumping into the back of a passing garbage truck, throwing the garbage men off, you could hear the thud of one of their heads (accompanied by a groan) and the scream of the other as he hit a pile of wood on the side of the city street and broke his leg (craaack) as he did so. Sorry guys.

As I hung on with my good arm to the back of the truck, expecting a pickup-stop at any moment or a drunk vagrant to pummel me with a glass bottle, I saw several people sleeping in the street, some with plastic covers, some with old, weathered jackets and finally some with cardboard boxes. In the next moment I saw a man exit a building with a pristine black, pinstripe suit, with Black Bruno Mali shoes, something shiny on his wrist, short black hair slicked back and a black leather briefcase. As we drove by him, I stuck my hand out smacked the back of his head. He dropped his cellphone and briefcase and started chasing after the truck yelling "You fuck! I'm gonna get you!" He was snarling and seething at the mouth. I laughed as we turned a corner and he ran out of steam, screaming at me as the distance between us grew till infinity.

I continued to hang on, sucking in the night-morning air, thinking of my next conquest, my next escape. Forget this place, I thought to myself as I lept off the truck and onto the quiet, foggy street.