In the shadows of the moon our sins reveal themselves. The darkness presents the illusion of safety, allowing us to be ourselves; to let loose that which we keep caged up inside. We dream our biggest dreams in the night.
Phin was no different from anyone else. Bored by his lack of engagement during the day, he took to the streets at night. He roamed the city, from neon awning to neon awning in search of his true self.
This self was the one he dreamt about during the day. The one who was smooth in his conversations, tough in his walk and talk, with an income that put nothing beyond the reach of his grasp – someone people were interested in.
Every night he strutted through the city, shoulders back, king of his world. Confident that around the next corner, at the next bar, he’d find the culmination of his dreams.
With his head back, looking up at the stars, he failed to notice those with no time to dream, watching him from the shadows, their desperate eyes waiting for the right moment to strike.
On a dark night with no moon, when the blackness was its own shadow, they struck. Phin was pulled into a dark alley. They knew enough to avoid the head, but their pipes and kicks danced a hard number across his torso.
Their agile fingers whispered through his pockets, taking what little was there. Their anger roused by his lack of substance their boots rained down on him again.
Even if he could have moved, he would not have. He stared up at the darkness and thought about how now someone would be interested in him. Police or medics, it didn’t matter. He’d tell them little. That would keep them on the hook. He smiled.
