The alley echoes to the sound of rain bouncing off metal dustbins and splashing in pools of dark, reflecting water. The moon looks down at multiple versions of itself, casting what little light there is in the dark. A rat darts from bin to bin, desperate for food but finding little. It pauses looking round agitatedly sure it heard something. Its eyes pierce the dark but see nothing. Satisfied it carries on its nightly routine, knowing if it carries on it will hopefully find a discarded takeaway wrapper to stave of the pangs of hunger for one more day.
This dark desolate place is home to many creatures. Mostly empty during daylight it comes alive at night. The occasional cat prowling its kingdom, with a primal memory of a previous live long ago when it hunted in the jungles for bigger prey. Silently it watches, crouching down on its haunches. Suddenly leaping forward. He's fast, but the rat is faster, its senses not dulled by centuries of domestication. It darts for the drainpipe but the torrent of rainwater prevents it from climbing. Taking his chance the cat pounces again. With a quick snap of the jaws the rat hangs limp. The cat struts out of the alley with its catch in its mouth leaving the alley vacant.
The rain slows to a drizzle, but still the alley is alive with heavy drips from the rooftops. There is a sudden noise from behind a bin a rhythmic banging of something hitting the bin. This is soon joined by a low groaning, getting louder. The banging gets quicker then stops. There is movement and giggling. Two pairs of feet run off, splashing through the puddles, emerging from the dark into the accusing streetlights.
A door opens, illuminating an arc of debris. Fast food wrappers, drinks cans, newspapers, used condoms, the flotsam of a Saturday night. A figure emerges carrying a bright yellow crate full of empty bottles, a sign of the life going on inside. The figure turns and places the crate on top of several more, turns and goes back in closing the door. Once again darkness descends.
A large shadow appears at the entrance to the alley. It grows larger as a figure is pushed, protesting out of the streetlight. Raised voices break the silence, demanding, refusing. A glint of metal then demanding and pleading. Demanding. Pleading. A gasp. One of the figures collapses. The other fiddles with its pockets. An item is removed and opened. Something is taken then a wallet is thrown away. The figure turns and walks back into the light and vanishes. A cry for help is heard. Shadows appear once again. There are gasps and screams. A voice of reassurance. A short while later the darkness in broken by blue flashing lights. A body is lifted onto a stretcher. The lights fade.
The alley is once again silent, but for the remaining drips of rain. It has served its purpose for the night

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