collaborative

Night hid in the alleyway. It lurked back among the trash waiting out the day. The sun might hold sway in the streets of the city but these nooks and dirty crannies always belonged to the shadows, even at noon. A rank scent of rotting food, piss and shit clung to the place. Bins of hammered tin stood against the filthy brick walls, their lids locked with pins. A few of these though had been looted and overturned. The thieves lorded over the garbage heap, a gang of rats. They picked the choicest morels from the pile, carting away a fish head here or a bit of gut there to gnaw with feral abandon. One of the pests slipped away from the others. His greasy black fur made him a shadow himself as he slunk to the wall and followed it down the alley toward another large pile of refuse. He stood back on his haunches, ever cautious as he approached the hoard.