Mr Grey asks for MY support

I'm sitting outside Papier Mache Towers having a fag before grabbing Zat and going to Boot Camp when Mr Grey, chief of the resident's assoc rocks up.

"How are you?" he says cheerily, for indeed it has been some time since we ran into one another.

"Same same," I lie because I regret giving him my oh so honest letter of appeal which well, I'm still here aren't I?

He asks about my housing because he is alright really and asks who's the 'highest' person I've spoken to. I tell him.

"Nick Clegg!" he exclaims.

"Yeah." I'm so deadpan it's untrue. Don't tell him I was in the paper, don't tell him the paper's asked me to write something. "I hope something comes of it. I've been emailing allocations and quality back and forth back and forth. I'm really angry now."

"Yeah, I can tell. Where are you off to now?"

I'm dressed in my uniform. "My self defence class."

"Wow!" he exclaims, taking a step back.

"Yeah well, this situation's killing me. I have to get my strength from somewhere."

I go inside and get Zat from the shed. When I come back out he tells me he didn't see me at the last residents meeting and tells me there's one next month.

"I'm not going to come," I say. "No point, I'm being kicked out of here aren't I?"

"But it's going to be about regeneration. We might all lose our homes, you could come and say something."

"Like what??? I am losing my home. I have to focus on that at the moment."

"It might be soon, we're all going to be made homeless." Then he laughs and says: "You might actually be better off than us and get somewhere first!"

Something spikes my heart, I carry on, quite calmly: "I don't think so. You are in this system, I am outside it. You will get first dibs, not me."

"Yeah, maybe but come anyway." Like I'm his Great White Hope or something.

"My priority is to house my son. I have to think of him before I take care and support everyone else. Jesus, I can't even help my son, you know that. No my son is my priority. I have to go now. See you later."

And with that I cycle off thinking of the parents and old people in this block and how my property owner's plans to upgrade will be a total waste of money. I wonder if she'll get what she paid for the flat though, if I warn her not to do it and the council does indeed knock it all down.

Helping my son within all this carnage. It's absolutely impossible. But then that's what Alice (Alice, who the fuck is Alice?!) thought about slaying the Jabberwocky.

I am going to believe in the impossible too.