With one hand cradling a cigarette inwards, sheltering it from the clear sky, he extended his other arm perpendicular to the horizon. Well steadied, he stared ahead beyond the mess of chicken wire to the plastic chair in front of the stairwell. It was faded and stooped to one corner from a splintered leg. Four pigeons completed the scene, one lazily stalking a plastic bag as it drifted in and out a shard of sunlight. Shadow, light, shadow.