Witness

There's an old man that lives across the hall who stands outside my door in the mornings. He carries a plastic shopping bag that rattles softly in his hand. I can hear him every morning, shaking like a leaf and shuffling down to the bathroom and I know it's time to get up and get ready for work.

I think I like this new place. It's cheap, it's fairly clean and most importantly it's cheap. I share a bathroom with five strange people down the hall and even though I have to wear shower shoes, I don't mind. I can afford to travel and write and not worry about whether or not I paid the electric bill.

Yesterday I went outside to empty the garbage and there were two men sitting behind the dumpster talking and smoking. The one closest to me told me not to be scared and held up his joint to show me that they just needed some privacy. He showed me a ticket he got in Hilsboro for littering. Told me he was going to contest it in court. Apparently he threw a bottle like a basketball towards the rubbish bin and it missed. He kept walking and an officer stopped him and gave him "a piece malicious injustice and by-God he's gonna fight it".

I wished him luck and came back inside.

The next day I saw his friend down at the coffee shop, but he didn't recognise me.