Sero Hanta!

The neighborhood had its own rhythm. The sounds of motorcycles roaring in the distance, murmurs interspersed with laughter, and the smoke from cigarettes floating in the air. On the usual corner, my group and I were going through our nightly routine, joking, drinking cheap drinks, and taking a few puffs of something stronger. I, in my worn-out denim jacket and dirty sneakers, was leaning against the wall, watching life go by like someone watching a movie without much interest. A very pretty girl walked past.