The door snapped shut behind me cutting off the hallway light that had lazily illuminated the rusty steps. Why do they always put the trashcans at then end of the alley?

Insistent rustling in the discarded newspapers made my head snap in the direction of the noise. My eyes attempted to pierce the darkness. A high-pitched squeak. I stood motionless. Silence. A rat, hopefully

The last step onto the wet mossy cement was just a shade higher than the others. My shoe slipped before it found purchase. Temporarily out of balance I flailed my arms and connected with the wall, scraping my knuckles. Shit

Deliberately I made my way to the cans, careful not to step on rotting peels, or worse. CRUNCH My dilated pupils imagined a bone peeking out under my shoe, some crimson flesh still attached. much worse

After an eternity I reached the glinting metal cans. Hastily I opened the lid, dumped the trash, crashed the lid and turned. Then I saw it, arms outstretched, tiny legs pumping. The teddy-bear of doom!