The Brave and the Dead

The sky carried with it a darkened hue of grey and black that not even the brilliant light of the moon could pierce. The sounds of the city that never slept echoed against the thick brick walls of the dirty alleyway; the distant screams of sirens and roaring of engines reduced to distant whispers by those cold darkened barriers.

It was in this forsaken corner of the world that a barrel fire crackled, barely illuminating the two dirty faces desperately soaking what little warmth remained for them. The ragged couple spoke jovially as if to spite their bleak surroundings.

"… what'sa matter with me? Whatsa matter with yew!?"

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