I start walking. Go faster with every step. Get to the street, turn around, continue walking and realise I’ve lost track of the others. Something within me has me racing but I’m unsure where it comes from. Rain everywhere by now. My trainers soaked. I continue down the street. Past the shops, the people, the faces I know by heart. Past the dealers, the screamers, the people I don’t give a fuck about. Turn around and see the others way back. See them talking but I can’t be bothered and move on. Whatever. Walk off the map and get lost. The rain continues and I sense thick drops wetting my forehead and flowing into my brows, my hair drenched. My upper body is tense. I clench my fists. By now the road leads uphill and becomes tougher to run on. I almost manage not to pay attention to the voices from below. Can’t really see them anymore, almost gone. Got to keep on running. Raindrops are falling from the buildings around me. Puddles everywhere. Peoples faces blur, left and right. Turn into grimaces with hollow mouths that keep on talking, endlessly talking. I turn away and continue uphill, thighs burning. But I slip on the wet tar. Just about manage to catch myself before I hit the ground and shred my hands. Grey concrete around me. Bitter. I spit and get up. Rain pours down even harder. I’m thinking I’m not too far from the top now, when I suddenly realise there’s a vast load of water rushing towards me from above. A large wave, mountains high, built by the constant rain, making its way downhill. The closer it gets, the more it grows in size and speed. I keep going, thinking I can handle this – I’ll just leap over it. But as the wave continues rushing forward, it washes away everything that stands in its way: the shops, the chairs, the stools set outside. The people. Everything gets shattered. I jump up, lean forward, dive, tense up and fold my hands over the top of my head, trying to absorb some of the initial impact. But I can’t. The stream takes hold of me and the only thing I’m trying to do now is not drown. I steadily paddle upwards to get to some air until, at some point, I get spat out and find myself lying at the very bottom of the road again, on solid ground. Concrete in my face. Most of the water drains into the sewers, only the thick, plopping rain continues. I can hear it before I feel it. Dripping all over my skin.

I start walking. Go faster with every step. Get to the street, turn around, continue walking and realise I’ve lost track of the others. Something within me has me racing but I’m unsure where it comes from. Rain everywhere by now. My trainers soaked. I continue down the street. Past the shops, the people, the faces I know by heart. Past the dealers, the screamers, the people I don’t give a fuck about. Turn around and see the others way back. See them talking but I can’t be bothered and move on. Whatever. Walk off the map and get lost. The rain continues and I sense thick drops wetting my forehead and flowing into my brows, my hair drenched. My upper body is tense. I clench my fists. By now the road leads uphill and becomes tougher to run on. I almost manage not to pay attention to the voices from below. Can’t really see them anymore, almost gone. Got to keep on running. Raindrops are falling from the buildings around me. Puddles everywhere. Peoples faces blur, left and right. Turn into grimaces with hollow mouths that keep on talking, endlessly talking. I turn away and continue uphill, thighs burning. But I slip on the wet tar. Just about manage to catch myself before I hit the ground and shred my hands. Grey concrete around me. Bitter. I spit and get up. Rain pours down even harder. I’m thinking I’m not too far from the top now, when I suddenly realise there’s a vast load of water rushing towards me from above. A large wave, mountains high, built by the constant rain, making its way downhill. The closer it gets, the more it grows in size and speed. I keep going, thinking I can handle this – I’ll just leap over it. But as the wave continues rushing forward, it washes away everything that stands in its way: the shops, the chairs, the stools set outside. The people. Everything gets shattered. I jump up, lean forward, dive, tense up and fold my hands over the top of my head, trying to absorb some of the initial impact. But I can’t. The stream takes hold of me and the only thing I’m trying to do now is not drown. I steadily paddle upwards to get to some air until, at some point, I get spat out and find myself lying at the very bottom of the road again, on solid ground. Concrete in my face. Most of the water drains into the sewers, only the thick, plopping rain continues. I can hear it before I feel it. Dripping all over my skin.