While I start my day on the street, the chilly morning breeze still giving me goosebumps, I wonder where Whotter and Fox are. I did hear them this morning, very early, making a lot of rackid before they left the house. They must have skipped breakfast, since all the plates were still empty when I came down from the bedroom. They probably ate something from a trashcan on their way into town.
Now I am out here in the street, at the colonnades, hoping they manage to stay out of trouble. I don't want to get into a fight with Street Whores' owners because they have been harassing punters. Or worse: turning half the traschcans over.
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