I tried to reason with him – told him I was waiting a decision by the DSS. He laughed. ‘You’re waiting, son,’ he snarled. ‘I’m not.’ I said I was looking for work and pointed out that I’d been quiet and kept the room tidy. I didn’t know what I was saying, really, I was that desperate, but it was no good. He told me to pack my bag and stood there with his arms folded while I did it.

When I’d finished I brushed past him on my way to the door and said, ‘I’ll have you for this. Sooner or later, one way or another I’ll have you.’ His laughter rang in my ears as I went down the stairs.

And that’s how I came to join them – the homeless kids I’d seen everywhere on my travels. The kids I’d given change to a week ago when I’d thought things were bound to work out. I was one of them now – poised at the top of that downward spiral.

Daily Routine Orders 6

Time for a brief discourse on the subject of killing. Killing humans. Murder, not to put too fine a point on it.

Oh yes, that’s what they’d call it. If they ever found out about it, which they won’t. Murder. The deliberate killing by a human being of another human being. But you see, I was trained to kill. As a soldier, it was my chief function to kill, waste, do in – whatever you want to call it – those among my fellow humans whose activities happened to displease the powers that be in my country. And this is where the confusion arises. This is where distinctions get a bit blurred. The killing by a soldier of the enemies of his country is not murder. They don’t jail you for it. In fact, if you do it really well they give you a medal. So why, if I’m disposing of these druggy dossers whose activities are dragging the country down, am I a murderer? It’s all nonsense. I’m not a murderer at all – I’m a soldier out of uniform, killing for his country. Trouble is, is that because the country doesn’t approve, the whole thing becomes a hole-and-corner affair. You’ve got to hide what you’re doing, and that brings us to the hard part, which is DISPOSING OF THE BODY.