Orange begins to flood a warning through the sky as the suits began their descent to their offices. Just 20 minutes before, the morning birds were my only audience and now I can set myself up to be ignored. The streets are darker than normal, dirtier even. The same dark malevolent buildings tower over me, cold and distant like the people inside them. I’ve been here for a year, as of yesterday. This is my spot, my site, my office if you will. I only leave to sleep, wrapped up in my blankets inside my two man tent, but yesterday I brought my blankets with me to work. Yesterday was a cold day.

I haven’t moved for 24 hours now and my violin has stayed silent. There is only so many times you can stand on the same spot without any human interaction before you start to despair and yesterday I’d made the plan to pack it all in. And so I did.

Today, I sit in this spot justifying my decision. Will anyone notice me today? Did I make the right choice?

It’s colder today, and the streets seem busier than usual. My optimism rises and I begin to hope today might be different, that I might be wrong. Voices are getting louder around me as people pass by at a more regular pace and the crowds build; still nobody looks this way. Except for one. One little girl tugs at her mum’s sleeve and is brushed aside. Her blonde pigtails reflect the fading orange of the sky and her red coat contrasts sharply against her mum’s purple. She tugs again.

“What?” Her mum snaps, in a rush. The girl tugs again and points my way.

“It’s quiet,” she says. “It’s never quiet...”

She drags her mum over, and I tense up. Is this it? Their footsteps grow louder, her heels tapping on the pavement in sharp contrast to the girl’s shuffle of her trainers. As they get closer the girl pauses, nervous. Her mum takes the lead, getting closer and peers down into my hood, catching my eyes. I see her visibly flinch and hide her daughter away, shielded from the sight before her.

She reaches down, two fingers to my throat, holding them steady, still. The seconds tick by until finally she engages with me, and says, “honey, call 999 for me...”