(He’s just a Bum, drifting from shelter to shelter.)

“…”

He didn’t say anything, he didn’t have too. He was just an average Joe. His body was covered via a trench coat and hat. He huddled in the corner.

“Why are ya sticking round here?” He asked. His voice gruff and his tone sharp as the stingers on the end of his knuckles.

“Don’t ya got something?” He asked. You were much like him, a self appointed hero who in his mean time, sat in an allay wasting away.

“Oh…you ain’t got nothin. Yer like me”.

He said, his tone was softer but not exactly welcoming.

“Well…enjoy this shit hole.”