He wasn't going to trip, not again, not after what happened last year. It wasn't entirely their mistake of course, he was partly responsible for not paying attention to where he was headed, but really a large unmarked whole smack middle of the sidewalk was not something he would have expected in the neighborhood. It made no damn sense, why would they not cover it? At least he got them to put forward a formal apology, not that it counted for much but still. Something to hold on to. Thank god for good insurance.
He didn't want to be back, not that he was traumatized or anything. It was unpleasant reminder of the accident but not deep in his psyche or anything. Not something he was into, if you knew what that meant. And this particular street had never been his favourite anyway, not enough trees and way way too many college students who don't put their trash cans back in, litter about everywhere and ugh that disgusting smell of piss percolating in the air. Fizzy piss, for some reason that's what it reminded him of. As if he would know what fizzy piss felt like. Hah, he snorted at the thought.
A hundred feet in front of him lay the house he needed to be in. Different from the place he had been to last year, not as nice, not as old, and a little...strange, truth be told. Those craggly wires hanging on top, tree branches right out of a horror movie mansion and a vague sense of dread when you looked at it. Strange. But not as bad as hurting your shoulder, almost killing yourself. It's just a stupid house, he told himself, five minutes in, ten minutes out, it won't be a big deal. It's nothing. Nobody's going to harm me.
He looked at the pavement in front of him with great care, confirming there was nothing out of place in there. No unruly low-hanging branches, no overgrown shrub, uprisen slabs, and most certainly no holes anywhere. This would be a non event, something he'd never think about again. What a fool he'd consider himself for worrying so much, just for some random house.
In front of the house, finally, nothing in his way. He looked above, the sky was clear, the house looked way less threatening now that he was so close. Nothing could go wrong. This was a simple job. He was on.
Just then a murder of crows flew over him and he got shat on.
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