Shadows Before

           InordertogiveareasonableberthtotheCaf6RoyalmobIstruckupasidestreetintoSoho,intendingtocutbacktoRegentstreethigherup.

           Perhapshungerwasdrivingmorepeopleoutoftheirhomes.WhateverThereason,IfoundthatthepansInowenteredweremorepopulousthananyI’dseensinceIleftthehospital.Constantcollisionstookplaceonthesidewalksandinthenarrowstreets,andtheconfusionofthosewhoweretryingtogetalongwasmadeworsebyknotsofpeopleclusteringinfrontofthenowfrequentlybrokenshopwindows.Noneofthosewhocrowdedthereseemedtohequitesurewhatkindofshoptheywerefacing.Someinthefrontsoughttofindoutbygropingforanyrecognizableobject;others,takingtheriskofdisembowelingthemselvesonstandingsplintersofglass,moreenterprisinglyclimbedinside.

           IfeltthatIoughttobeshowingthesepeoplewheretofindfood.ButshouldI?IfIweretoleadthemtoafoodshopstillintact,therewouldbeacrowdwhichwouldnotonlysweeptheplacebareinfiveminutesbutwouldcrushanumberofitsweakermembersintheprocess.Soon,anyway,allthefoodintheshopswouldbegone;thenwhatwastobedonewiththethousandsclamoringformore?Onemightcollectasmallpartyandkeepitalivesomehowforanuncertainlengthoftime—butwhowastobetakenandwholeft?NoobviouslyrightcoursepresenteditselfhoweverItriedtolookatit.

           Whatwasgoingonwasagrimbusinesswithoutchivalry,withnogive,andalltake,aboutit.