Three of them huddled by the canal side, hungrily sucking the butt of a poorly rolled reefer, choking down the smoke then off on a laughing jag.
Red-eyed and careless, wandering along the water’s edge, navigating the path to the aqueduct. The motorway down below never failing to amaze.
Swigging cans, sniggering as they unzipped, unleashing a torrent of piss onto unsuspecting motorists.
He grins, remembering.
Rockets his cigarette over the rails; cherry red trails as it falls.
And waits to see what will happen.