His black-and-white striped Trustee’s uniform shouts his superiority over the common, grey-clad herd. The shirt’s like Newkie United’s strip; reminds him of home. The cap… That snivelling turd Reece’s tuneless snigger, ‘Where did you get that hat…’ Unlucky, him falling down the stairs like that.
Curtis saunters across the yard. Men shuffle. Drop their gaze. Mumble ‘Alright, Curtis?’
Respect. It’s his due.