Stepping out on the wet sidewalk, Mark straightens the tail on his ragged shirt. What’s the hustle today? Asshole pissed all over his sign last night, so sidewalk cruising is out. No back up. It’s the story of his life. Get a scheme set up and some jerk screws it up for you. Of course, his warm bed was gone when he plowed the fat face into the wall. At least he did snag an extra cup of coffee as he went out the door. An ambulance screams past, turning in to the hospital across the street. Anybody he knows? Who cares? Most of the idiots he knows would stick you as to look at you. The clang startles him as the purse misses his head and hits the pole. He looks up to see a strange woman screaming at him. She is a molten mass flowing on the sidewalk. A bored cop materializes in front of them, writing notes about some attack she claimed she witnessed. Nice to know there are crazier people than him....
