Hunkering down in the unprotected alley behind the bakery had been a mistake. There had been nothing in the bins to assuage his hunger and unfamiliar sounds had disturbed him. Today he would move back towards the beach where the smell of the sea could disguise past memories.
The streets, the beach and the queue at the soup kitchen were his life now. There was no room for bakery smells or regrets. That small child waiting for chocolate cake was lost in the passing of time; drowned in alcoholic fumes and forgotten in the repetitiveness of everyday survival.
He wiped a corner of his eye with a dirty hand and made his way towards the beach. The salty air cleared his head.
The bakery had been a mistake.