Untitled.

The dank street is empty and hostile; the rich couple strolls on guard and unaware. The cars zoom by, poor and awful, as they walk with insecurity in their lost steps. They avert their eyes from the drivers' seats as they probe their way back to their elusive hotel. The dark has caught a hold of their survival senses, and the adrenaline is ready to pump.

But they are no animals; their unseasoned reflexes quiver uncertainly. I can see they are ready to run.

Will they meet a savage this dreadful evening, and be brought, low and ugly, to the state we're in?