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.