' Hurry... quick, look...another one !' someone calls.
There are four of them who stand with drinks in hand staring out of the window towards the Council multi story car park.
A building that weeps sorrow from decaying concrete cancer riddled joints.
Someone draped in a blue tarpaulin is balanced on the edge of level twenty.
He or she sways from side to side as they look at the ground far below.
'That's going to be the second one this week, we might get three in a row, what do you think, bets on, eh...?' smans one.
'I'm going up on top for a fag...you'll see everything better from up there ...anybody coming?'
'Wait a minute, let me get my cuppa' said another.
The car park is ringed by other dismal structures that add to the air of melancholy.
Ghostly faces can be seen peering like distant spectators in a sordid gladiatorial arena awaiting the end of the games.
A life at stake, thumbs up, thumbs down.
29 Plaza De Lux is one of those dismal structures.
A drab neglected building topped with a tangled mass of weeds sprouting from the guttering.
On the crumbling roof, seagulls squabble over food scraps scavenged from the rubbish strewn pavements below.
The building is unoccupied, except for occasional tenants who display their latest deals and promotions in vivid garish colours.
“...Special offer must end by…buy one...get one free...”
No sooner than the end dates arrives, the building becomes vacant again.
Fading posters of dreams left to flap in the wind.
At the entrance to the Plaza De Lux a street cleaner removes a cardboard shelter along with tattered remains of a sleeping bag.
The remnants of a last supper is swept away.
'How long do they usually stand there for?' asked a newcomer.
'Well...on Monday, one went off before I could get up here to watch'
' You know they have one of those phones over there...yellow ones, on the first floor I think, you know...phone up for help ones'.
offered someone with knowledge of the area.
' Phones on the first floor...what good is that...sure it's not one of those Taxi or order a Pizza phones !'
'Probably right, can you imagine dialling up for a Takeaway then getting the lift to the top...the delivery man wouldn't be to happy would he...taking the piss that is.'
' Look...I think their going for it...!'
The blue tarpaulin flaps like a distressed bird with a broken wing.
The final thoughts that filter through a fractured mind dismissed.
A moments hesitation...
A change of mind...
It's to late for talk...it's to late for...
He or she falls with their memories wrapped in blue.