...these luminous dots mirror the windows of the flats around the courtyard, scattered on the faces of the buildings, each illuminated with a different colour as the light spills through the curtains, silhouettes of people moving in some. Voyeuristic eyes watch as they rise and fall, drifting by in blurred oblivion. Somewhere, the eerie blue flickering of a television screen dances across a wall and a child plays, arms raised like some spectral being, skitting about behind the net cutains as a car faintly screeches on the already torn up tarmac of the carpark.
A man is walking across the square his head bowed against the wind, stepping through the sulphur pools of a street lamp, hands dug deep in his pockets and whistling, the wind snatches it from his lips and the cats scatter. Startled.
He takes a cigarette from his pocket, resting againt the lamp so his face is stained by the glow, eyes deep shadows under heavy brows and his mouth puckered as he flicks the lighter behind the cup of his thick veined hand, a burst of flame is lost to the grasping hand of the wind. Another. The cigarette glows at it's tip as he inhales, eyes slowly close with the satisfaction of the smoke as it crawls, serpentine, from between his lips...