I was walking to work ten minutes before four in the morning. Dirt was strewn across the concrete walkway, large chunks along the shop windows. In front of me was a girl with long dirty blond hair. She looked like some kind of creature in the night. My heart skipped a beat. She was on her knees, digging into the cracks on the walkway, cleaning them. As I approached, she snapped her head up, her once pretty face ravaged by drugs.
“You scared the fuck out of me, sir,” she said.
Then she looked back down and continued to dig.