A few months ago, the old house across the road was sold to developers. Over the next few days, she observed how the bricks, glass and mortar tumbled into a heap. The bulldozers removed the rubble and the foundation was laid. The cement mixers poured cement, the tall crane hoisted heavy rods, and the men shouted to each other in friendly refrain.
Around her the old is making way for the new; soulless structures are rapidly erected. She feels stifled, certain that one day she will wake up with cement in her nostrils and steel bars lying across her coverlet.
A steady dripping of ice cold sludgy water was plopping onto his neck. The sewer was a rank place: concrete walls layered with sludge; filthy water sluggishly flowed over the uneven ground; mangy rats scuttle around the pipelines. Tommy trudged through the putrid scum that was coating his trainers. He sighed as he crouched and sifted through the sludge. When the slime dripped through his fingers, he felt a metal disk in his palm. Shoving it in his pocket to look at later, Tommy resumed searching. It was five days later when they found the stiff corpse in the sewers.