Earlier

When I went home I rustled up some egg and bacon, and that seems to have picked me up a bit. While I was there a black maria pulled up outside. I could hear the police talking on their radios; they had come to arrest the man upstairs. Yes, he was upstairs worst luck. That means he must have bashed someone else, so we are therefore not rid of him. As I left I saw the woman who lives upstairs just outside the flat. She was talking to her mother and wondering how the police got in, while looking at me. Fuck them. I don't care what they think.