the streets where busy, even at night. It was late, humid, and loud, jazz filling the streets as people walked by, drunk, happy, fighting, hollering, everything. Stanley had just gotten into another argument with his wife, Stella, he loved her, but god, she could be so hard headed and nothing like the soft women he had wanted to marry. she had changed after her sister had visited, after she had left too, she was fitful, didn't care for their kid, and had let the house fall apart while he worked. honestly, he couldn't do it anymore. wandering around, Stanley stoped at one of the more popular bars, people coming in and out, loud music and happy people pouring in and out of the bars open doors. the grand style of New Orleans houses, though broken down, was nice and comforting, homey. he sighed and passed the bar but came up short on a little back alley, a homeless person slept in the back of the alley but closer to the front of the alley sat a person, young, clearly drunk and murmuring to themselves. maybe this could be interesting. he sat down, scooting next to the drunk person "want a light?" he offers a cigarette and a lighter