Homeless Fred Shot The Bag Day!

Dead silver rain has your head down between your shoulders, walk-sprinting to get indoors as fast as you can. Middle of the block, gotta get past Homeless Fred.

Homeless Fred's rooting into the trashbag somehow fastened through his beltloops and up around his neck. There's a foot of space on his right. You watch his elbow jutting in and out of that space as he rustles through the bag of everything he owns in the world (everything he found today). You watch the elbow seeking out the rhythm. You catch it and take a one-two quick jump through the foot of sidewalk space. The elbow stops moving and Homeless Fred whips up in front of his face the treasured item he was searching for.

You pass untouched. You catch sight of Fred's hand. You think, "Was that…?"

About thirty steps later the night behind you goes KRACK. You stop in your tracks at what you know wasn't thunder. You turn to see Homeless Fred beaming a brown grin through the curtain of rain. Smoke billows out of the trash bag. Smoke slinks from the barrel of the revolver in his hand. There's garbage strewn out in a circle where it landed when the bag blew. Homeless Fred just shot that trashbag. Keep walking. He might wanna shoot something else.

Happy Homeless Fred Shot The Bag Day!