Addicted 1/5

We met in a local school. After hours. Hastily coloured pictures of Richard the Third flapped from the wall every time the door opened.

Our ‘leader’ for want of a better title was a slip of a man. Hardly there, loose waisted jeans and a straggly beard that covered his faded t shirt.

He’d been there you know. Felt the need to help those in trouble and arranged the meeting off his own bat. Felt perhaps some higher purpose worked against us. Phone companies. The state. He wasn’t sure but battled against this unknown enemy with us and for us.