Peering round the corner, I see the source of the loud crash I heard a moment earlier. A shopping trolley lays on its side, 2 men in a heap beside it, giggling.
"Ow, Leroy, your driving skills are dreadful," slurs the smaller of the two men, staggering to his feet, "And look at the state of my jeans! I am never getting in your taxi again!"
"'S not my fault trolleys don't have brakes, or any steering. Anyway, it's YOU that was too drunk to walk home, so I had to take the trolley, wasn't it, Vince?" Leroy shot back, still giggling. Pulling the trolley upright, he set off at a run, jumping on the back of it as it picked up pace.
Still fussing about his jeans, a ridiculously tight white pair, the knees ripped out in, what I presume to be, some terribly trendy and up to date fashion statement, the dark haired young man lurched towards the door, fumbling with his keys. After a few attempts, he managed to unlock the door and staggered upstairs. I follow behind him, watching as he trips and nearly falls back down the stairs, desperately wanting to reach out and steady him. I watch as he flops down on the sofa, surveying the damage to his precious clothing, the white now marked with dirt from his altercation with the floor, blood staining one leg, leaking from a graze he has yet to notice. I watch as he becomes aware of this, stares at the droplets of crimson, struggling to comprehend the wash of colour from his ivory skin. A closer look at the injury told me it wasn't serious, just a nasty graze, although that didn't stop my urge to clean it up for him, make sure it didn't get infected. I notice the small shaman who has just entered the room, rubbing his eyes wearily, clearly woken by Vince's less than quiet arrival home. Sighing, he sets to work, washing the blood away, the young man hissing and squirming and throwing his head back as the antiseptic stings the fresh wound. Vince always was a drama queen. I long to comfort him, brush his hair out of his face, tell him it will be ok. I would quite happily pander to his attention seeking, if I could. But unfortunately I can't. I can't because I'm not really here anymore. I went away, I left him, but I didn't go far, I'm still here, watching over him.