the sick man punched out at the world, fully sick, was 'e. Then he tripped and fell and the girls jumped upon him and mobbed him, mostly they smashed his genitalia with their little fists in their drunken fury and then they grabbed each other and ran off laughing and shouting into the quiet darker alleyways where they regrouped themselves laughing and in a fit of passion, came together and fucked on the cold dirty concrete. Then they raced off into the night. The sick man dragged himself inside and sat upon the step of the building where he lived, the extreme pain was sickening so he vomited and just lay there the internal wrenchings tearing at his mind and filling it with the breath like rythym of nausea.
The street sign trashed on the road crumpled and smashed under each car the went along the black and cold street. There was no rain it was rather dry, but it was as cold as it had been all year and the sick man was freezing cold out there barely moving, breathing and feeling.
The girl upstairs got up and peered at the light, still dark, she pulled on trackpants over her underwear and boots to ward off the cold. The shouting had woken her and now she knew she couldn't sleep until she had had a piss, so she wandered down the wooden floorboards to the badly hung door and went inside.