King's Cross Dead Space and an Anarchist Fair

Walking through the industrial estates, I dodge behind a fence to inspect an orphaned office chair. Emerging back out into the rain a man shouts at me to cheer up. I smile to myself and walk over. No skin off my nose, I've nowhere to be. He offers me some cider and I politely decline as I roll a cigarette. He presumes I'm a student but no, I'm on the dole just like him. We talk about his family, he needs to get off soon because his parents are having a domestic but he lingers for another ten minutes, asking me about my sex life. Not in a predatory way, he's just curious. I dodge his questions like a politician but it is clear that he can't figure me out for the life of him, not that there's much to get. I ask to take his photo and he says no, an air of suspicion in his voice but says that I can if I bump into him again some time. He needs to go but advises me to turn back the way I came, something about how there's nothing up there and I shouldn't go through the council estate. I stop for a minute, savouring the last few drags on my fag and meditating on the conversation before totally ignoring his advice.