(1) When all else is lost the future still remains

“Hey kid, how much is it worth to you to get some food that doesn’t come out of a dumpster?”

Race paused, looking over warily at the man who was talking. “Depends. Who do I have to kill?”

The man chuckled. “No one. I just need you to deliver a message for me.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Fifty.”

“Shit, for that much I’ll deliver ten notes.”

“One’s plenty.” The man pushed off the alley wall, still keeping in the shadows as he beckoned for Race to join him.

Hesitantly Race did, staying well out of the man’s reach.

The man smiled in understanding. Taking out his wallet he pulled out a five bills, folding then in half. Then he took an envelope from his pocket. “The address is on the front,” he said, tossing it and the money on the ground in front of Race.

“How do you know I won’t just take the money and run?”

“I don’t. But if you do, your life won’t be worth jack shit.”

Race considered that for a moment before nodding. “It ain’t much of a life but I’d rather keep it.”

“Figured as much. And if anyone asks you never saw me.” The man moved away to the end of the alley. He watched as Race scooped up the money, putting it in his back pocket, and then looked at the address on the envelope. “It needs to be there within the hour,” the man called back before turning, striding the last few feet onto the sidewalk and disappearing from Race’s view.