He likes walking at night. The grimy streets transformed by darkness, charging his bland, gritty home-town with fresh, expectant energy.
Cars snake ahead of him on the road, their headlights slicing through the shadows, reflecting in the puddles on the black pavement under his feet. He weaves around other night walkers; anonymous bodies huddled into coats and under umbrellas. His head is uncovered; he likes the sting of rain and the cold breeze whipping his cheeks.
A door opens – a buzz of voices and music blasts out on a heavy cloud of hot, intoxicated air, surrounding him momentarily as he passes – the soft tapping of his trainers as he walks on.