Leaning on the bar at Brennan's Cellars, Tammy had one arm folded in front of her and the other holding her chin up. She chewed gently on one fingernail, staring in no particular direction. The bar was quiet, though there were still punters knocking around the place. On the counter before her was the book kindly given to her by another. It was placed carefully on the bar, closed, with a bookmark protruding from one side. 

She continued to stare, wistfully seeking more than fiction in her life. 

"Fella's, do you feel like there is less bein' said these days? I don't remember much of what me father said or did out on our streets, but I do recall him gettin' chance to talk to folk."

She broke her stare and looked among them. She lifted the book and inspected it, before holding it out as reference.

"I love readin' this stuff, I really do, but it's just not enough."

Idling behind the bar, she took a glass for herself and poured a whiskey. It splashed around into the glass, before settling.

"I want ta' see debates and challenges in the streets, questions bein' asked and folk gettin' all articulate wit' each other. Me father used to do it, and more often than not he got the shite beat out of him, but that's what it was all about."

She put both hands down on the counter and began addressing the customers directly.

"Have we ran out of tings' to discuss? Are we all content with the way tings' currently are? Even that Cooter Times got less mention than I thought it might."

She plops back down onto one arm and blow the hair out of her face. There was something amusing about her little outburst, but the customers didn't seem to have much of a response to offer. 

The young woman sighed and drank from her glass, spinning a coin around on the wooden counter top.

Ordering a scotch from the barman and smoking a cigarette, Begbie listens to the stranger talking before offering his own input:

"I'm not really one for public outbursts - certainly not vocal outbursts at least, but I do enjoy hearing a good discussion or a heated debate, so I fully appreciate what you mean when you say these streets lack a bit of passion of late.

Whilst I can't say for sure what the reason is for the silence we hear on our streets, I would assume that folk are simply too busy building themselves a comfortable life or a generous nest egg to help provide for their offspring. There are a number of fairly young mobsters roaming our streets also, perhaps these youthful folk just haven't found their voice yet - maybe the confidence which age brings has yet to embolden the youth we see around us.

Whatever the reason, I'm sure that without folk like yourself, pushing the envelope and trying to open up channels of discussion, these streets would be even quieter than we see them now, so I for one applaud your attempts at generating lively street debate."

Taking a sip of the scotch in front of him and sitting back in a rickety bar stool, he waits for someone else to voice their opinion.

Tammy smiles and flips her coin to the man who had spoken up. It spirals through the air and lands neatly into his palm. She replaced her hands on the counter and leaned on them gently.

"Tank' you, sire, I appreciate your comments.

"I had not considered that right now, the population are not worryin' themselves with the current state of the world. They're not bringin' up questions or challenges because they're busy buildin'. That I can understand, though I don't know what it tells us for the future their buildin' for."

She sighs and slumps back down, her chin falling into one hand.

"I sure would like summat' to talk about, though."

He was drinking a hot coffee as he overheard the comments being made. You could see the hot steam flowing up into the air as he placed the cup down on the cement block as he approached the small crowd that had gathered.

I spend a mixture of time between the casino, my yacht and then walking the streets. (not like that)

When I say walk the streets I guess I am a part of the problem, which I can see is real also. I read and listen a lot but I sometimes do not speak my mind. This is something that I feel needs to change for myself and for MANY of my fellow leaders and hands.

When I look around I see single digits for how many visits to the streets we have, for a lot of us but not all.

While it is never easy for topics to be brought up, ideas to be drawn up on paper it must be done for the new mobsters who may have not seen that seem speech one hundred times. I agree with Begbie that we need people like you with the inspiration to write not only stories but articles and questions for our world and inspire the rest of us to do the same.

I know it is not easy to inspire people to write and even the efforts put by some to get things going that fail can be hard to do again, but we gotta try I say.

Or we all sit around do our crimes, make $ and kill and die in silence while the new generation does the same.

He picked up his coffee and nodded his head to a few friends who he saw quietly walking down the street talking to eachother