And then, thwack! Fredrick tumbled forward into the alley, his muscles and bones quaked and rattled as if he had been struck by a car or hit by a wooden plank. He pushed himself onto his hands and knees, panting as he tried to regain his breath. He gazed forward and pushed himself onto his feet. His hands and knees stung from scraping along the cobbled surface of the alley, his side and back throbbed.

He held his breath. They stood there. They seemed to be everywhere these days. Those shadows, blurry, fizzling in and out, appearing for a moment and then, gone.

“Watch where you’re going asshole,” Fredrick heard. He looked towards a pile of garbage. A figure stood there, dark, like a silhouette. And then, it stumbled into the acid yellow lights of the alley, swooning. A woman, maybe. Her hair was pulled into ponytails that shot out from either side of her head. She faced Fredrick, her hands by her side, clenched into fists. And those…things…stood next to her, one on either side.

“What?” Fredrick said, weakly.

“I said watch where you’re going.”

“But you crashed into me.”

The woman scoffed. “Whatever.” She staggered forward, stopped before Fredrick, and gazed up at him, her eyes bleary and shifting. “Who the fuck are you?”

Fredrick grimaced at the strong smell of alcohol. “I could ask you the same question.”

“Yeah, well, that’s none of your business, so fuck off.”

“You’re the one who’s talking to me, so maybe you should….”

The woman staggered back a step. She wore a red jacket, and trousers that had pockets all over them, like cargos. She wore smudgy, red boots that rose just above her calf. She lifted her hand towards her head. Her arm glinted in the yellow lights. It looked like it was made of metal. “God, I got a headache,” she said, rubbing her forehead with her fingers.

Fredrick took a shallow breath. “Are you ok?”

“Do I look ok?”

“Well, um, no not really.”

“Well, that’s none of your business.”

Fredrick sighed. “But you asked me,” he protested.

“Oh, stop your whining, it’s making my stomach turn.”

“I think something else is making your stomach turn. A bit too much to drink maybe?”

Fredrick looked more closely at her face. It was smudged with dirt or oil, as if she was working on some kind of machinery. A mechanic, maybe. She seemed close to his age, if he could only see under the grime. Was she in school, like him? Not likely, not if she was a mechanic. She seemed like a worker, like someone who had a job to do.

“What are you staring at?”

Fredrick glanced away. His eyes fell upon the blurry shapes, those fizzling, static patches that seemed to hover behind her. He shivered, as the sweat that was starting to soak his hair and clothes, the sweat that was so hot just moments ago, now made him feel like he was being wrapped in a cold, wet blanket. He swallowed hard. He returned his attention her.

“Um,” he started, “So, do those things belong to you?” he said, nodding towards the space behind her, and the blurry, fizzling blotches.

She glared at him for a moment. Her eyes became sharp, dissipating the wandering bleariness of a moment ago. She looked deeply into his eyes, and then followed his nod to where it led.

“Shit!” she hissed. Fredrick opened his eyes wide. “So, those things are real,” he shouted. “They’re not just in my head. They really do exist.”