Three

Remus stared across the street at the limo parked in front of the Vietnamese restaurant, Foo Food, across the street from Watershed Heights. As he looked on, an asian man in a suit got out of the back and walked into the restaurant. The chauffeur got out and lit a cigarette while leaning against the presumably empty car. Fucking gooks, Remus thought, as he lit his own cigarette and continued on his walk. The only Vietnamese restaurant in the whole city, and they had to build it right in front of my god damn apartment. He took a drag, and then turned back towards Foo Food, just in time to see the man in the suit exit the building with a briefcase in each hand. What the hell? he thought. The chauffeur let the man in, then climbed in himself, and the limo pulled lazily out of the lot and disappeared down the street. I'll be damned.. Wonder what kinda shit they got runnin' there...

Just then the heavens opened up, and an ocean of water fell from the sky. Cursing, Remus threw down his soaked cigarette and ducked into the nearest building. After shaking water from his soaked head, Remus took a look at the building he was in. Bottles of cheap alcohol lined one wall, and on the opposite wall there hung a wide variety of guns. Jesus Christ, it's a good thing I never came in here depressed! Cheap guns and cheap booze in one place, what kind of genius came up that one?

"Looks like you got rained on!" said the cashier. He was a short white man with a bowl cut and glasses. Remus turned to face him and gave him a blank stare before replying.
"Yeah, it's raining."
"About time! My lawn has been dying of thirst!"
"Interesting."
"Ha ha, well I certainly think so! Can i help you with something before i bore you to death? Haha!"
Remus turned his head towards the wall lined with guns. His eyes wandered up and down a few moments before he saw it. Near the top of the shelf hung a Nam era m16, the weapon he had clung to in ditches and held like a child's blanket as death crashed all around him.
"No, you can't help me," he said. He turned and walked back out into the rain.

Two

The inside of Remus's apartment looked much like the outside-like shit. There was rot in the carpet, the lighting was poor, and fleas abounded. Remus spent as much time away from this place as he could. He almost preferred park benches to nights in his own flea-infested bed. Still, it had a bathroom with functioning plumbing, a kitchen with a working stove for those rare occasions that he tried to cook anything, and of course it was a place for him to keep his belongings.

Remus entered the apartment, hung up his coat, and locked the deadbolt. He didn't trust his neighbors one bit. He walked into his kitchen and poured himself a drink. He wasn't an alcoholic, but he always had a drink before bed. He walked to his bedroom with his drink in hand. He undressed and stood before the mirror on the wall, contemplating his life.

The last 40 years of his life seemed to be a blur of empty days. For such a small portion of his life, his time in the army had defined the rest of his days. In the mirror he could see the tell tale signs of an old soldier-he had been shot in the leg, and had the scar to prove it. His eyes spoke of an old terror that had been replaced by nothing.
All this was obvious to his eyes, but anyone could see that Remus was old and tired. He had been tired ever since he came back from the war, and since he received checks from the government as compensation for his mental trauma, Remus had not occupied a job since.

For 40 years he had tried to forget, and it wasn't working. He wanted to do something real now, instead of the empty, meaningless things he had been doing for so long. Remus felt something lately, something he hadn't felt in a long time. He felt like there was a spark in his soul. The feeling of restlessness had grown until he realized that he could no longer live life an empty shell. He yearned for something more in his life. But this tired old man did not yet know what it was.

He let out a sigh and headed towards his bed. As he lay down, he noticed his empty glass sitting on his dresser, and got back up to put it away. As he passed through his apartment on the way to the kitchen, something outside caught his eye. He went to the window and peered out. On the playground below, he could make out a man, fully grown, swinging on the swing set. The man appeared to be completely naked. Remus went to his door and checked the lock. Satisfied, he put his glass up and went to bed.

One

It was a dark and stormy night. He rubbed his hands together for warmth; it was cold, but the winter was just getting started. The night was lit by fires burning in garbage cans set around the camp, and, farther away, by flickering streetlights.
This trashy clearing behind the public park served as a home for the homeless during the cold season. Set behind the park's polluted pond, this camp was an appropriately gloomy habitat for the people that occupied it.
Remus huddled near a fire surrounded by other scroungy looking men. These people had all fallen victim to their own vices. Most of them would never get back on their feet. They would live out their wretched existence, and then die alone.
Remus wasn't a bit worried about that happening to him. He didn't really belong to these people, because he wasn't homeless. He came here when he was feeling down. The atmosphere helped him to get his head together, and straighten his thoughts. The clear night air always helped him to keep his ghosts at bay. Whenever he couldn't sleep, which was more and more often these days, he would come and sit around the fires. Likewise, whenever he drank, he came here to wear it off.
The bums all knew he wasn't one of them, but they left him alone. These people didn't need any more trouble.
With a clear head, Remus got up from the fire, and walked across the empty park to his apartment building.