Memory 5: That little asshole broke my nose

"Hey, kid," says someone behind him, and Lumen blinks up toward the sound like he's waking from a long, deep sleep.

There's a man standing above him, staring down. His breath is fogging the air, and he's got ratty fingerless gloves on his hands.

"Hey, kid," the man says again. "I seen you around, lately."

Lumen says, "Uh." His voice is rough, like he hasn't used it for a while. His brain feels like rusty machinery, creaking back to life. "Yeah."

The man looks one way and then the other, quick and kind of furtive. He takes a step in closer. "Me and my buddies, we was hoping you could join our little club."

"Club?" says Lumen, and the word feels slow and stupid in his mouth. For the first time he notices that there are other men – two of them, loitering near the bench.

He feels something prickle at the base of his neck – something like fear, strong enough to cut through the apathy.

"Sure," says the man with the ratty gloves. "You just pay a little entry fee, and you're one of the gang. What do you say?"

Lumen says, "I don't –" and makes to stand.

A hand clamps down hard on his shoulder and shoves him back down onto the bench.
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