Someone's up to no good. I can't remember what he looked like but I had a good view at the time. A choking cough brings tears to my right eye. A wave of black hair in need of a wash. A black coat. I'm looking through a window into the street and I see him peering into a car. He moves up the line of parked cars. Cups his hands on glass to get a better view. Examines the interior of each car. The brass neck of this man. He attracts an audience. People come out onto their steps to watch his shameless progress as he tries a door handle here, pushes at a window there. He draws level. I have a grandstand view as he starts to punch at the glass. It bruises. Spreads like a crystalline spider. The clearness of the glass turning black and green. I open the window, say can I help you? I can't remember his reply but I'm sure he did. Said something and was gone and the people on the steps broke out into noise like a verbal applause. There was a moment that felt like danger. Me and him. Him looking at me and the air charged with the expectancy of his reaction in which anything could have happened.