"AY! I'M WALKIN' ERE!"

Gah- car almost hit me! Sunday drivers, the lot of 'em..! Dunno respect for the elderly! ... Then again, maybe I don't got a lotta respect on my belt either.

"Man. This is what I get for coming back to the streets..."

It was a long time since I was here. I don't remember how long it's been... I know I came back a liiiil' while ago, a few months, but cashed out as soon as everything seemed okay. That was after 2 years of my first run as a criminal extraordinaire. Well, minus extraordinaire, add rookie, I s'pose.

Now? Now I got me a letter, someone beggin' me to come back to the streets. Some old man who wants another old man to check on the old streets to see the new blood. Heard the old blood die though, so that's... Well, as some say...

"Dang. Unfortunate, toots."

I offer my condolences to a random woman sitting on the sidewalk. Got flowers. Maybe they plan a visit to the cemetery today, Aaah who knows?

... Still. Time for old Hebi to see what kind of things there are in this new generation of crime-doers, doers of crime, crimey crimes and doing doers...

"Weeell if it ain't somethin' I know, I know that it's somethin' I wrote, so let's see jus' what the papers say and oohhh darlin' noooo..~" Sing a nice tune as ya walk down the street and maybe life and luck will smile on ya a bit more, is what I always say (along with my 101 other 'I always say'-ings). Good mornin' crime world, how ya doin'?

... Wait, What were the lyrics to the song again?

Isadora smiled at the man she passed on the sidewalk.  He seemed friendly enough if somewhat lost in his thoughts, she was sure she heard him muttering to himself about song lyrics?

She paused, "Hey there stranger," She called out to Hebi.  "You new around these parts?  You're not lost are ya?  I'd be happy to lend a hand if you are."

She smiled and offered her hand, "Name's Isadora, Isadora Esposito.  A pleasure to meet you."

Rochelle got a little turned around walking to the cemetery and realized she was walking in the wrong direction.  To take a breather she sat on a little bench on the sidewalk.  As she sat there she heard Hebi addressing the streets. 

He reminded me of my Uncle Bentley who had been in the life a long time and tells how things were so different. 

When he said time for old Hebi to see what kind of things there are in this new generation of crime-doers reminded me of how Bentley claims we are too impatience, want things fast, at any cost.

He started singing Good Morning crime world then stopped Wait, What were the lyrics to the song again? I had to laugh because the only good morning song I knew was the one by my friend Billie Holiday.

Good morning, heartache, you ole gloomy sight

Good morning, heartache, thought we'd said goodbye last night

For some reason,( well I did have flowers in my hand, bloodshed had hit the streets and I was close to the cemetery),  he came over and offered his condolences.  I thanked him and told him I wished him well.

Dusty was out for a stroke, it was a beautiful spring day, he had his finest Gold jumpsuit on and the sun was shining. The world was turning, the birds were singing, old ladies were being mug, art galleries across the country were being robbed, idiots were espousing nonsense in the streets and everything was how it should be.

He must have walked quite the distance though as he no longer recognised anyone he passed. A not unattractive lady in a light brown or dark tan coloured dress that looked like it was made from a cheap material, too heavy to be cotton and not sheer enough for satin or silk. Dusty nodded to her and smiled a winning smile and carried on his way. He passed another woman with striking bleached blonde hair in a trouser suit, for whom fashion obviously meant a lot, and though she too was undeniably pretty, she was obviously mourning the loss of someone close, and casual sex with the bereft could lead to a whole host of problems. So again he simply nodded to her and smiled. 

He passed an old man who was very strangely dressed, didnt look old at all, but spoke with a voice that belied his years and a mind which told a tale of vascular dementia. Again Dusty just smiled and kept walking, although he did look kind of cute... as he walked he thought of the old-not old man and started to sing quietly to himself.

 

Ohayou sekai

Ohayou se kai

Dore hodo aruitaro?
Ashi no itami dake ga
Sono kyori wo monogataru

Nagai yoru wo koeta
Zekkei no kitai ga
Kyou mo boku wo ikashiteiru

Kamigami no reihou shinryoku no kyuuden
Gankutsu no saiou soukyuu no hate
Touha shite miseru genkai wa nai
Hoshi no sumizumi made

Ohayou sekai

Ohayou sekai
Fukanou no yami wo haratte shinwa wo nichijou ni kaeteku
Ippo zutsu ishi wo ugatsu you na
Kono ayumi de sekai wo hirogeyou

There were numerous things wrong with this, not least of all that he didn't know he knew Romaji. Still, it was a beautiful day.