"You like to fuck?", the boy was asking me without inhibition - I had met him in the yard of the abandoned fish factory, the local meeting point of the homeless street urchins to go for a smoke or a wank. He was about my age and like me he wore a black beanie and a worn sweater - he was kind of cute but he was tricky as well: he had offered me a cigarette for a kiss and I had taken the bribe . . .
