Shadow's Embrace
As night begins to creep its way back into the alleys, the streetlights begin to flicker out giving temporary strength back to the darkness. Putrid steam dances up out of manholes and drains to swirl in the musty morning air. The occasional vehicle barreling past at much to high a speed push around the escaping moisture and for a moment banish the weakening shadows…that is, most of them.
Mornings come quickly in the suburbs, in sharp contrast to the city. John Rustling hated the mornings most of all. He was not proud of the fact he had a second shift job, but to be honest with few friends and his loathing of mornings…getting up at noon and still having a few hours before he had to get to work, was just what he needed. He hated that he had to get up so early this morning, but the Monday-thru-Friday'ers that often controlled his income and medical care could tell you when they can see you, not the other way around.
As soon as he was dressed, he was out the door to make it to the appointment on time. He was thinking as he left that if it went quickly, he might be able to get home fast enough to get some more sleep before work. Up ahead was the bus stop. He would wait in the alley just behind it to block the chilly breeze. John would never make that appointment, but he would get plenty of sleep.
In the bright morning light, the droplets of water from the night's repugnant mist sparkle like diamonds before they fall from the rusty fire escapes into the filthy muck of the back alleys. These are the parts of the city that most residents pretend do not exist. Except for the occasional feline, rodent, or vagabond, few would dare to even venture into these places. Trash lay strewn amassing in piles in every contour and corner. Containers once emptied of their commerce sit abandoned until some poor wretch decides to claim one as home or shelter. Random items that each would have wonderful tales to tell are now a part of this eclectic wasteland.
In one such alley, on this sunny fall morning, a small breeze rose from nowhere in a corner under a fire escape. Papers flapped and a few cans and bottles rolled into each other as if being kicked along by a small child. A wheezing and grinding of gears noise started, first very softly, then rose to just the point that were this not a large city someone would have noticed. A mysterious floating light began to pulse just under the escape ladder as a blue box began to solidify into the surroundings under it. The front of the box had two doors each with a darkened window near its top. Across the top of the door frame read the words "Police Public Call Box." And then, as soon as it appeared, anyone who had seen it would just have looked away and not thought it anything important, for that was the very nature of the thing.