In the depth of the night, at the edge of Naija City, where lay a shelter, a squat concrete building, just one story with barred windows and a single flickering sign above the door: HOPE'S REST SHELTER, a man walked.
He walked through the empty parking lot, mostly empty except for the rusted van and a shopping cart that never moved.
He was tired. The past few days had been a lot, the most activities he had to perform in the last few years. He needed rest, which he had not gotten ever since Tuesday morning and today too he had to lose his energy.
Now he had to sleep at Hope Rest Shelter, and he was annoyed by that.
Why do I have to sleep here, what shit luck.
He thought as he slowly crossed the parking lot reaching the building.
It really feels like we are back in the 80s, shit place. Anyways I should hurry up then head back tomorrow.
It was night time. The outside was empty. People were already in the building trying to rest, running away from the cold.
