Red Hill, Cinders Street.
The usually rowdy streets were silent despite it already being noon. One could say the rain had played a big part in keeping them empty, but even the spots where the local troublemakers took shelter were robbed of their chaos. The tension in such places was so thick it could be cut with a knife. Everyone was stressed out of their minds, but all they could do was drink and wait for the storm to pass.
Tired of the suffocating atmosphere, a young man stood up and walked away from his table. When his friends asked, he replied that he was going for a walk. The gloom had been getting to him, and he couldn't stand being in that place another second. At least he could breathe outside. He would have preferred if the rain were gone, but beggars can't be choosers.
