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The first five steps in the morning, or mid afternoon lately, is the great test for how many years your body has left. Every bone creaked. Every muscle misfired. He sweated so much it stang. His movement was punctured.

He looked deep into the mirror. Past his stupid red eyed blurry head and into beyond.

"What' ll I do next?"

The sink rattled with the echoes of the old tiles.

"Who gave birth to me, where will my life go?"

"Get off your lazy ass and control me."

He pulled four tablets from the edge of the sink where people normally keep toothpaste and made them disapear. Today will be same as yesterday.

He was a college kid once. Different guy then. Big georgian freezing house in Drumcondra. Damp in his lungs, in his wardrobe, in his nostril, in his food. Bread turned to mould after a day in these cupboards.
Bread rarely lasted a day though with 4 pay for nothing beatnicks sharing the icebox. Watching his shopping habits, knowing when he was arriving and what day brought what treats. He only got 4 slices from a pain and when he turned his back itd be had by one of them.
It drove him mad at the start, he was near counting his salt granuals to catch them until one day he found something else to care about. Something else to keep you busy.

Soon enough the 4 pay for nothing ice box slimers were complaining of things going missing and chores not doing.

Big leafy trees, a wide thoroughfare, two bicycle lanes in each direction, a stretch of grass and oak down one side, Ed Fleck stands looking at his dog with a little plastic bag in his hand. Theres nowhere hed rather be, well nowhere except his local gym, the one place he feels welcome.

It will be a while before that will be open though. The only place he can leave the house without people looking at him with fright, wondering what drugs his pregnant mother took, warning their kids not to slag him or laugh, would be for the dogs benefit.

He was training his broad thick back last night. A crazed loon had came scrambling in sideways and out of control, like he was on trolley wheels, Ed looked at him, he looked back and carried on rolling by until he tumbled over a bench.

Tom Murtagh came limping over demanding to know what the issue was. He started up this gym twenty years ago when he wanted to make a difference, he hated the place now. Couldnt bring himself to refill the soap in the dispenser most days.

The nutjob pulled a gun right in front of Ed and told Tom Murtagh, local hero, that he should have a more ethnically diverse hiring policy and shot him once in the chest and once in the face.

He turned to Ed and mumbled sorry, turned and bundled back out. All Ed would be good for, for the next few days would be walking his dog.

Reeney Ross was touching sixty. She liked a game of bingo and played twice a week. Once in the local hall and once in whatever north dublin venue was offering good prize money at the time. She carried with her a small plastic bag that contained markers and a small clipboard. In her coat pocket she always carried a flick knife, she wasnt a psycho she just never felt safe since her teens, only when she was with Barney, when she got to her mid forties the worry got worse but as far back as she could remember if Barney wasnt there she felt like she was about to be attacked most of the time. Reeney could play a number of books at a time and if somebody was speaking in her company during a game they were told to shut up. Reeneys friends husband had a car most of the time and was always good for a lift.

Reeneys husband Barney never worked a day in his life. If you looked at the local pub on labour day he would be in there, you might tut and say that feckers always in that boozer, never works but in honesty he had 4 pints a week after collecting his dole since his forties.

Before his forties Barney Ross was a wild man. He apologised for nothing and nobody dared ask him to, except Reeney. Reeney would tear strips off him but hed be just as wild the next day.

Barney liked an afternoon a week on the slosh and Reeney liked the bingo.

Nobody ever gave a toss about Kaya Duffy except his ma. His ma didnt really know much about anything though and raised him with the parenting guidebook of the prolateriat.

You are better than nobody and nobody is better than you.

You cant have a bike till you can show me you can defend it from robbers.

Dont try too hard in your job everybody will think you are a rat.

Dont be a rat. Dont rob washing lines. All drugs are bad but definatly dont touch heroin, thats for smellbags.

Stand up straight.

That sort of stuff. She had a different boyfriend every week and loved to guzzle whatever booze was fashionable. She liked to dance to reggae with a joint in her mouth and her eyes half closed. Most days she wore a dressing gown.

It was a miracle when Kaya got offered a place in a PLC course in the local TEC as far as the locals were concerened, but Kaya worked hard. He reckoned his da must have been a hard worker but he had no idea who he was.

He hoped to make ads or short funny films one day because he liked to make people laugh but he also wanted to have a fair world where everybody had the same shake of the dice.

Thats why Kaya Duffy was here looking at a penis poking through his letterbox and peeing all over his mat in the hall of his poxy apartment.

He ran to the door and nearly ripped the hinges off pulling it open, he was stabbed sixteen times before he realised the man with the phone wanted him to come barging out.

His mother would use this as an excuse to carry on drinking, his two friends would wake up shortly, one to find out why his head was getting banged and the other to find out what the commotion was.

All three lads would die for communism that day. Two of them didnt even really believe in it, they just liked the camararderie, the songs and having friends.