The city was empty. It was early Saturday morning, the sky was grey and rain fell lightly. Almost imperceptibly. This was his favourite time. It felt like the entire city belonged to him. He would wander down abandoned streets, look into windows of the closed shops, sometimes he would even sing out.
He started humming loudly as he walked. A pigeon heard him and thumped his wings and took off, landing a few feet away.
He hopped over a puddle next to the curb and sang out load. "They call me mister Pitiful, baby that's my name."
This is freedom, he thought, this is the one moment that makes living in this crowded city bearable.
He kept walking and singing and turned the corner.
Half a block away, a girl walked away from him. Her thick hair bobbed as she stepped. He stopped singing. Something picked at his ears. He inched closer to her, and heard her singing.