He swayed and then swayed again, his face holding an angry gaze directed at everything and nothing. He gestured violently into the night.

I like to think I sway for different reasons.

I stared at him and wondered when this happened. I wondered if it could be fixed. If people like him wanted something else but just ended up reverting. Always returning to the welcoming fog. How easy it is. He mumbled and moaned and asked around whether he should stay or go home. As if it mattered so late in the night and so early in the morning.

The night rolled effortlessly onwards. The crowd had turned as dark as the sky yet I felt at ease. This crowd used to be quite intimidating but all of them now recognizable. Friendly. Welcoming. I should stay. I should stay.

And so we swayed and then swayed again, both holding our angry gazes towards everything and nothing. Both gesturing violently into the night.

But I tell myself I sway for different reasons.