The city longs for me with the smothering songs of the blood-splattered streets and vomit inducing smells of the dead bodies found in the docks rotting away for the gulls to feast in a cheerful delight. Another long day in the Emerald City, cheating husbands sniffing viridian dust off the hookers’ thighs, innocent damsels standing in a harm’s way with a barrel of a gun as their sole confidant and silent warden. The city never changes; no one does if they can help it. I know I wouldn’t.

The sign on the front door to the lobby of the Williams & Valente Building once again has a green paint splashed all over it. Emerald City my ass! Third time in two weeks. And since the last Animals were evicted more than a month ago it has to be a message to me personally. Humans seem to be truly preoccupied with this master race mentality rush these days. No one gives two shits if you are legally recognized, as one of them, unless you have a beating heart to rip out of your chest and a set of bones to crush.  I smile politely at a concierge lady scrubbing away the thick paint off the sign, she grants me a stern look and grumbles something under her breath. She hates me and doesn’t make a secret of it. I like her for that.

No correspondence for me in the carefully organized mailboxes on a wall of grey concrete and flaking patches of green paint. As if there ever was. Sometimes I wonder why do they even bother to have this display of social services lack of giving a fuck about these parts of the City. Hundreds of buildings with their own leery residents and fishy landlords. However, the rent is low and the clientele is in abundance. Beggars can’t be choosers in this neck of the woods, beggars are happy if they are not devoured by the rabid wolves roaming around the place.

The office is on the last floor. Hefty wooden door with a stained glass window, green lamp in the corner of the desk and window shades preventing the City to pry about the place. Everything is in order. Everything is in its place. The only thing missing is trouble. And if I know a thing about troubles they don’t like to be missed.

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[NIC]tinman[/NIC]