The night was dark; empty streets. The litter dormant, statuesque; asleep on hard concrete.
A wind blew, a low howl of agitation. Emily walked briskly in the shadows. Being seen meant being caught.
Street lamps flickered and failed, plunging the street into a screaming tenebrosity. Heavy footsteps, ragged breathing.
Emily turned and felt a knife clawing at her ribs. Sirens echoing in the distance.
A gruff demand; pressurised she passed over her belongings to the unknown assailant. Heavy night once more choked the street as the mugger retreated. The quiet whispers of a city street in a place far away.