"Not today," he whispered softly.

The shop lights flickered incessantly. My stomach gnawed in complaint.

"Please," I trembled, almost begging.

He turned around, head shaking. Back to his other customers. The ones who could pay.

I stumbled into the night. Rain soaked into my clothes. A small rat scurried past. A well-earned morsel in paw.

The rat was a King. Tonight, I was it's pauper.

No, it would not share. Not with me - a vagrant. The Stig of the dump.

The granite was bitingly cold. My cup empty, as usual.

Time ticked it's weary hand.

Strangers drew near - then more.

A jingle in my cup!

Perhaps hope remains, after all.