A man on the can with eyes of bemusement and a face of intense pain.
An empty car park. An abandoned shopping trolley. The steel camouflaged with the cement.
Toilet door shut. The words ‘Nothing Much’ scrawled on the front.
The trolley meanders away with the wind.
The exit door of the toilets. Dried faeces. Wet tramp.
A brick shack stands to the right. A pungent aroma lingers.
Outside. Grey cement, concrete blocks, grey trolley sailing. Someone.
A tramp lies by the open door.A light flickers. A man stands.
I’ve seen this all so many times.
The beauty of the dark is the only time I see the whole of it all.