It was a bleak January morning. The rain was pouring and the lights were flickering casting a shadow that only appeared for a moment.

David Donald was rushing throw the rain. He was glancing at the checkpoint in the distance. He closed his coat tighter to his chest as a splat of rain hit his shirt.

He could see the officer standing staring at anyone who passed and if anyone went to get through he would turn most of them away from Sloter street.

“Next!” shouted the officer, looking around. He held out a leather gloved hand and David shuffled forward and handed his documents. “where are you heading young sir,” he growled, staring at the documents. 

“I’m taking my dads baked goods to some customers,” David sweetly replied, trying to keep his head down. The guard gestured for him go through the checkpoint.

A second later David was walking up the rich people street he got a tingly feeling

Up his spine. Here the streets were wider and cleaner. The shops were gleaming and friends were chatting like nothing was happening. David wished he was like them and not a foreigner in his own land.

Taking a short cut through lawyers row. David pulled his hood down. Remember keep your face hidden his family carved it into him so many times.

As he swung round the corner he saw a women rapidly approaching him as she grabbed and dragging him into an alley way.

“Give me that,” she screeched, grabbing his bag of him. There was silent. and all your money. David stamped the robbers boot making her fall back. As he ran he reached a great brick wall.

The women’s shadow cast to his feet as he was pinned to a wall. It stretched up the wall he was paralysed with fear when he noticed a door and he vaulted to the door.