Twelve Minutes sometime before Midnight

I. The Outside (as it was)
Heavy heat, humid, pre-summer storm, a superstitious air.
Beyond the taxi rank, indistinct cries but
the seagulls are only nearly silent.
I walked a road lit by orange lamps talking
to Andy then Em. A fat teenager ran past me into
a garden yelling 'fuck you motherfucker' at no-one
in particular. I saw two men who looked like members
of 1980s boyband Bros nearby, saying 'I think he
jumped over this wall' but they didn't seem that
concerned about finding him.
If indeed they were talking about him at all.

2. The Outside (as it is)
An hour and five minutes until midnight.
A man screams on the street below this bedsit.
There is a muted sound, of glass - the song of wine
bottles rolling on the pavement. He screams again - silence -
then shouts. He moves further away, and as far as I can hear
is gone now.