Short fiction by Michael Salmon
Another meal together. They couldn’t simply spend the evenings ignoring each other. Gary still wanted to complain a little.
“Why don’t we find a new place, outside the complex? I’m starting to feel like I’m living in a fortress. Let’s go somewhere out on the streets, you know?”
“Fine,” his cousin replied. “I know a good place.”
They walked to the back of Charlie’s apartment block, around the high metal fence you couldn’t see through. The buildings dropped in height and grew darker, and the streetlights changed colour, orange instead of white.