I haven’t seen much of Smoker (2) recently. Usually I can see the light come on in his flat across the way. It used to be about 6.30 am and I’d catch sight of him through his blinds reading his phone in his pyjamas. And then there was the visits from his two little boys. I haven’t seen them arrive and go either. And his car has a flat tyre. It’s been flat for weeks now and he’s not changed it. Is he OK?
I saw him as I was walking towards M&S to cut through down to the river. He was loitering around the large containers (they could be bins or flower pots, who knows) outside Wetherspoons by the station. He was in black, wore sandals and was holding a transistor radio up to his ear. This was while he was digging around in one of the containers. What was he looking for? Fag ends, half empty bottles? The radio was blaring. I couldn’t distinguish what kind of music it was, but was frenetic, rapid and urgent. As were his movements. Jerky. He jerked. His limbs jutted out. Edgy. I felt the same and quickened my pace.
