Snow Space

Liminal

The corner shop at night seemed to have some sort of parallel universe quality, the way the harsh white light blinked into a steady buzz along the isles of confectionary. Dead silence amplified the sound of the window pane cracking open, as a hand reached through the already broken glass to unlatch the small door. 

"Got it lads," came the triumphant whisper, and within a few seconds the boy was balanced on his friend's knee, hoisting himself through the open window. 

"Gaz, give us a hand," whispered another hushed voice, and the boy already in there turned around, reaching through the window to wrap his hand around his friend's, pulling him up through the gap. With a grin, the last boy jumped up through by himself, using the pipe as a foothold.

"Still need help, Pikey?"

"Fuck off, Khamil." 

"Cigarette anyone?" Gaz asked, throwing over a pack to Pikey who caught them and grinned. 

"Nah, Gaz, only what we need."

"You sayin' we don't need cigarettes?" Pikey raised his eyebrows, turning to Gaz who grinned at Khamil. "Boy's off his head." 

Khamil pulled off his hood, and walked past the first two isles, turning into the last where the hum of the overhead lights was the most noticeable, and the wave of cold air from the frozen section washed over him.

"The fucking beer's behind you man!" 

Pikey's distinctive cackle was audible in the background as Khamil swung off his backpack and propped it in between his feet to keep it upright. His eyes scanned the shelf, and he grabbed the tinned foods - the microwave dinners. There was a tinge of regret as he realised that his bag was not going to home all of this, leaving him to make do by shoving two of the cans of beans in his trackie pockets before pushing the stolen goods down and forcing the zip shut. 

"We good?" Gaz called over to him, as he slung the rucksack back over his shoulder, nodding back. The three of them returned to the window, Pikey weighed down with two six packs of beer and cigarettes bulging out of his pockets. 

"Are you fucking serious?" Khamil asked, and Gaz grinned, looking back at Pikey's indignant look. 

"Allow it!" 

Khamil shook his head, before ducking his head under the window pane. Carefully, he slung his bag down, making sure the bottom of it was touching the floor before letting go, and jumped down, feeling his feet crunch against the gravel. 

Street-lamps dimly illuminated the road in front of the boys with a golden tint as they strolled down it, rich with newly thieved items. Their laughter rung out through the night, triumphant in their usual manner at their assured dining for the coming evenings, and perhaps more-so the adrenaline of crime. 

"You look so bait, man." Khamil couldn't help sniggering at his mate's attempt to carry the six-pack of beers underneath his adidas hoodie, and Pikey looked down, as Gaz slung a victorious arm around Khamil's shoulders. 

"He's not coping well with the split."

"Fuck you!" Pikey argued, instantly defensive about Gaz's jibe at his recently failed love-life. 

"Love fucks with the mind, don't it, Gaz?" Khamil added, patting his friend's shoulder in conformation and the two laughed at Pikey's growing irritation, Gaz letting out an amusing guffaw as he darted away from his friend's attempt to punch his shoulder.

"Oi oi, we're just having a laugh mate, don't get menstrual!"

"Nah though, on a straight level Pikey - you and Vicky still rough?"

"That's done with, man."

"For real?"

"Hey, don't interrogate me, what about you and Ronnie?"

"Fuck no, I'm not talking 'bout that shit," Khamil muttered, rolling his head to show his immediate boredom with the subject, and Pikey raised his eyebrows to make his point.

"Point made, allow it."

"You gonna share any of those fags, Pikey?" Gaz chirped up, nodding his head at Pikey's bulging pockets as he side-stepped alongside, almost showing off his boundless energy. 

"Aight, so you two bang on about how I'm the twat and now you're after my smokes? Have it on."

"Don't be arsey," Khamil chimed in, resulting in a grumble of annoyance from Pikey as he dug around in his pocket, finally pulling out one of the boxes and passing it over, complaining as Gaz took two.

"Allow it man, I haven't had straights in long," Gaz protested, slipping the other one into his pocket and bringing out his lighter. 

"Oi - my stop, dickheads," Khamil spoke up as he reached the small turning into the row of council flats, turning and taking a few steps backwards to fist-bump his mates in parting. 

"Wait - Khamil, nearly forgot," Gaz called, digging around in his pockets. Khamil waited, before letting out a laugh as Gaz brought up two fingers in an obscene gesture, responding with his middle finger.

"Have a good one, twats."

The night seemed quieter as the group tore away, and the echoes of Gaz laughing at Pikey floated through the night, drifting further from Khamil's ears as he sauntered down the street - the usual loud arguing from number 32 was still going on, despite it being about midnight. It would be practically owning up to illegal activity coming in through the door at this time, so Khamil walked round the back of the house, using the neighbours rotting fence and the bins beneath his window as a leg-up onto the brick wall, before slipping into his window, shoving the bag under his bed. Reaching over, he switched off the small buzzing bulb hanging from the roof by pulling on the white string that hung next to it, eclipsing him in darkness.