...I can hear the sound of cats fighting somewhere down below, high pitched squeals interrupted with the occasional sharp hiss, and the low throaty growl that signifies one's poised to attack. A lull, then the untidy clattering sound of a dustbin lid being dislodged and falling on the concrete. That hollow, round noise as it spins on its lip till finally settling with a defiant clank. The cats scatter at this, their smooth, lithe bodies flickering across the ground like wisps of black smoke, melting into the shadows till all that remains are the orange ovals of their eyes staring out from the gloom.