Fucked By The Homeless Man I

THE city’s breath, thick with exhaust and the faint, sweet decay of forgotten things, clung to me as I exited the towering glass and steel monument to my ambition. My heels clicked a sharp rhythm on the pavement, a counterpoint to the distant wail of sirens. Tonight, the usual hum of traffic felt muted, replaced by a strange, almost predatory quiet.

A shortcut, I decided, a momentary lapse in my otherwise meticulously planned existence. The path, barely lit by ...