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Chapter One

There’s Nothing Kind About Man

The fighting see down the streetin the middle of a riot

I’ the corner onto Ca avenues in Tribane, whencontact with somebody’s face Then, when I have the chance to scan the area, I notice that there are hundreds of people fighting one another Just going at it like they’ve all suddenly taken crazy pills or so

A thin,wo down hard on the hair of a blond woht into her face Spittle flies fro for? Was there sootten out of hand?

I take a step backward al o back the way that I came, but find that the riot has rapidly spread and now there’s no way out Only acalmly about the street behindshit out of each other Nerves build up inside of

A group of teenagers band together, throwing bricks and slass s at the front of an electronics store Okay, I can’t even begin to fathootten the bricks froenerally carry the out to try and stop theers throw kicks and punches at the es and dark blue slacks

At first the e any ry as the rioters They begin fighting viciously for no real reason I step away further, backingbehind round a foot or so away fro his opponent’s face in, bloodying up his nose, and I’ hit looks like he’s on death’s door, his body lirasp I can’t just watch this happen

“Hey, stop that!” I shout at thepunches like nobody’s business

The lare at me There’s a ra a woollen top, corduroy trousers, sensible brown shoes and his balding dark hair has speckles of grey in it He looks like soht laced father; an accountant or a financial advisor doing so on his day off Not soer All of a sudden he lets go of the

“You little tramp,” he seethes “What did you just call me?”

The anger and hate in his words strikeI only told hi is still going on around me, but all I can focus on is this un to drip fro’s drool