General

Maya slumped against the wall, feeling the bumps of the archaic wood-chip wallpaper dig through her t-shirt. She looked down at the picture that had once been a vibrant union jack. Without lifting it to the light that struggled through the window pane she could see her skin below. She turned to watch the street for signs of the gangs, she couldn't stay in all day, she had to get to Micky's before sun-down. It was hard to see through the cracks that distorted the outside world in their spider-web way. She could only just make out the rain-drops she'd been hearing all morning through the grime. It looked empty enough, perhaps now was a good time. When she pulled her hand back from the cold aluminum frame the tips were black. Curious. On closer inspection the dark seal was covered in what she supposed was black mildew. With a quick wipe of her hands on the jeans she'd slept in it was time to find her keys. Her runners were already on her feet of course, she didn't want them stolen...