The taxi driver was making good progress, not even taking me around the block or on the tourist route. Most, if not all needed the reminder that old people are not stupid. I once encountered one who talked louder than an excited Spanish sports commentator while I noticed he was driving me around in circles. Bringing my counter up to something I could have made the trip for five times over. The man had regretted it the moment I lit up a cigarette, took the old smartphone out of my pocket and went onto the emergency app.

I must admit, it was a lot of fun seeing him explain to the cops how he was not abducting and abusing an elderly citizen. Banging my own head against the glass might have been a little too much. The guy had sent me a thank-you letter for not pressing charges on something he hadn't done. I sent him the hospital bill back.

This fine specimen of the Uber community was driving me straight to my location. The irony was that this time I would have preferred the lad driving me around the block a couple more times. I was about to ask when he told me we had arrived at our destination. I looked through the window of his electronic motor vehicle. A stand-alone, brick house that stood on a small hill came into view. It wasn't big, tree stories, one room in width, around eight meters wide if I had to guess. Flowers and lush bushes covered the garden. A little brick road led towards small stairs of five steps and a green front door. A round glass window at eye height. It was, in a single word, cute. I hated it.

Grumbling something to the driver who didn't seem to hear, I got my wallet out of my raincoat and pulled out fifty bucks in cash. He looked at it strange but took it all the same. It was still a valid way to pay someone even if ninety-nine percent of the population paid with nothing but bits and bytes. I preferred cash. So did most of my age. The lad had to go to the bank and digitize the money. The bank would shred the money. They saw it as a waste of resources. It was easy to spot my kinship with it.

Getting out of the car at a snail's pace the lad got out himself and walked around his vehicle offering me an arm. This good man was getting my calls more often. Most wouldn't have bothered even if I had just tipped them twenty percent. A smile crept on my face before I coughed a handful of greenish spit due to the clean air of the suburbs, annoying my lungs.

As I wiped the spittle from my hand to my trousers, I nodded to the kind lad he could release his hold on my arm. He smiled back and said in a kind manner "Call me if you need someone to drive you around again ok old man? Just don't forget the no smoking policy next time!" He gave me a playful harsh look as I smiled and waved him along, taking a few steps towards the fortress of the enemy.

As the young man drove off, I grabbed the lucky pack that sat crumbled in my left coat pocket. I used to roll them myself. Now I didn't bother saving money. I was too tired of rolling cancer sticks myself. I wasn't even lazy. Just uncaring. As I put the filter into my mouth, I grabbed the cheap gas lighter from my other coat pocket and brought the two together. It was a match made in heaven. Sparks flying. A deathly chemistry. I took a deep breath, taking with it the second cigarette of the day. I had thrown the previous second cigarette of the day out of the window of the taxi. The guy threatened it would be me or the cigarette.

I should have never complied with his no smoking policy. It might be an hour walking but that would have been an hour extra to enjoy life. Now I had to step into the succubus layer on time.

With a final breath the last puff of polluting carbon dioxide, oxygen, and nitrogen got out of my lungs. Cigarette gone, almost touching the filter. My excuse to hang back and stare at the house gone with it. I took a step onto the brick pavement that let into the fort. Throwing the butt into the well-kept garden. My way of getting petty revenge.

I walked forward. My eyes looking for grass that stuck out from in between. My best friend had no power here. Not in this place. It felt like the place smothered every piece of grass at conception, just like hope. There was not a single spot of the green blades in the whole garden. I would like to think she had done it to spite me. It was more reasonable to assume it had just never occurred to her. But I knew better. It was a sad truth, but I despised her almost as much as she despised me. I wasn't even to sure why I received the invite for today. The invitation came in yesterday. I must have stared at it for at least ten minutes before shrugging and throwing it on the pile of other mail I didn't give a shit about.

Still, I had woken up this morning with a strange feeling. Maybe I should give them another chance. So, I had gotten into my best trousers and taken a cab towards their disgustingly cute home.

As I reached the front door, it didn't seem so right anymore. The glass blurred the round window so nothing could look in or out. Why install it in the first place if you couldn't peek out! It annoyed me a great deal. The round bouquet around it adding fuel to the fire.

I looked at the doorbell to my left. It was a steel pin that stuck out of the brown clay bricks that made up the wall. Its ending rounding up and fattening into a ball like a doorknob. Pretentious pricks. I grabbed it with my right hand, still not trusting my left shoulder being able to do too much. Pulling its steel pin out of the bricks a little jingle went off inside the house. The moment of truth.

A few seconds passed as I waited in the cold brisk air. The wind pulling on my coat, the grey clouds letting a bit of sunshine passed. Shining right on the door. Heavenly intervention? No such luck. I balled my fist as I saw the shape of the woman who had ruined my sons' career. He had put his goddamn magic stick in her goddamn muff all by himself. The whore had been more than happy to keep the baby though.

As she opened the door, she looked me straight in the eye, with those mat green and boring irises. Surprise covering her below average farmers face. The plump head and 'short and spicy' hair completing the bushy eyebrows and round nose. She was fit for a fatty, and a little shorter than I was.

As the facial muscles on her face turned from surprise into disgust she said, "What the hell do you want Walton?"

Ah, he kept her out of the loop. Not surprising. The letter had seemed a bit childish in hindsight. I had a much better picture of what was going on now. No reason for retreat though. A smile appeared on my face as I pushed my invitation into her face "Ah Beverley, such a pleasure to see you again. Now where is the birthday boy, I believe he wished to see his grandpa." I said as I made my way passed the succubus.