“…I’m a tiger when I want love. I’m a snake when we disagree…”

Why can I never get that song out of my head? It ain’t exactly the best thing to be thinking about on the way home. Again, I have to stay late. Why do I stay late? I’m a schmuck, that’s why. When will I ever learn that the old man’s not going to be any more keen on me dating his daughter no matter what I do around the shop.

The shop. Who would have thought I’d wind up in a shop? After the things I’ve seen, the places I’ve been, I shouldn’t be in a shop. I shouldn’t be alive. Hmph. There’s a thought. I’m living a life that should have been snuffed out a dozen times by now. This is all borrowed time. No, stolen time.

Wait.

Stop.

Hold that breath.

Open the senses, and take it all in.

That cat stopped mewing. A light three poles back is flickering. The ground is throbbing beneath my feet. I can taste the fear rising. That smell isn’t right; brimstone has no place in the Bronx.

It’s back.

Run.