Cold. Wet. Stinging sensation all over my body as the water dripped from my head and seeped into my thin shirt and the wind played with the rivulets running down my arms and neck. Being homeless isn’t as fun as I thought it to be, during the course of two days I learned a valuable lesson. If you have just lost your job, you shouldn’t be partying with your last paycheck. High probability you would get kicked out the next day by your landlord.

In my defense, the last day of my job was supposed to be my last day on this earth as well. I am a man of a very distinct caliber, I gave people what they have been searching for their whole life. Thrill, and excitement, made them see the value of each passing moment, in laymen’s terms I am a hitman.

And yesterday when I killed the wrong man, I knew it was a fucked up situation. And when the news traveled it was my boss’s brother-in-law, there was nowhere to go. So, I partied way hard thinking any moment another hitman would call my number but the night passed, and no one but my landlord came, asking for rent and complaining about the music.

In retrospect, I shouldn’t have thrown a bottle at his head and I might still had my house. But bygones be bygones. I am not dead, just homeless and jobless. The world is full of hope and even though a crow shit on my head and I am drenched in dirty water thrown at me from somewhere in the middle of the night with nowhere to go, the possibilities are endless. I am free. Free of expectations and the fear that runs my life. I can stay here on this street till the sun comes up and it won’t be an issue. I can lead my life now and no one would bat an eyelash. 

Even the cold that was hugging and cutting my bones has come down to a temperature that it feels tingling now like a lover’s caress. Prove the theory within a given time, and it all settles down.