Sunday’s Long Gone

There I was, dripping sweat and smelling like sin. It’s times like these when you have to dig down deep, search your soul, and hope you’ve got another wad of courage hidden somewhere. Coming up broke just isn’t an option.

These streets ain’t what they used to be. Something changes when the sun goes down, and every time it does the shadow leaves behind a murky stain. Things are never the same again.

During the day the street comes to life — bustling with merchants, businessmen, children, and animals. Lights, laughter, and the intoxicating smells of hand-prepared meals. It all comes together to give the area a persona all of its own.

But there’s no sign of any of that now. Just darkness, filth, shame, and the trashy lowlife that brought me here.

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