Canal- Side:

He dropped from the wall onto the towpath. Overhead the fog billowed and the walls of the cut reflected the sound of each step. Debris and fragments of ice bobbed about on the oily surface of the canal.

He marched towards where the canopy of a warehouse overhung the basin on the far bank, giving protection to the loaders. Lamps flickered and he could see silhouetted figures moving purposefully to and fro. Keeping to the shadows he slipped past and took shelter under the bridge. Overhead a passing cart rattled over the cobblestones and a horse exhaled with a snort, adding it’s contribution to the fog. The cold was gnawing at his bones. He rubbed his hands together, put them under his armpits and squatted down, leaning his back against the bridge brickwork. It was going to be a long night.

He came to with a start. He must have dozed off. Shaking himself, he came to full alertness and directed his gaze towards the warehouse on the far bank. He could smell the coal fires of…

(5th December 2016 – 177 words)

Written without preparation in about 15 minutes. Meant to be an “atmospheric piece”.

Based on real canal locations in Birmingham between Dartmouth Circus and the city centre and just north of Brentford.

In answer to my own question: coal does not float. I tried it out!