Situation

There's a man who lives under the bridge. His home is a small concrete hiding place. It's angled just so. The slightly sloping road bed is the top and a support the wall. By stuffing blankets and quilts inside the space, he made is quite comfy.

With a cardboard floor, a bag of clothes and supplies, this is home. Free food from supermarket skips. Washing in the river or in the gangster's shower. Tramp is his street eyes and ears.

Three cosy years under the bridge. Sound of traffic whirring quietly overhead lulls him to asleep. If anyone tries to rob him, a big iron bar is defence. As is his gangster. How many other homeless people have lived in this small space? Who will live here next?

London winters can be cold but snuggling up to another tramp has its uses. Especially a female one. Other sleeper's here wait their turn to join in with the street hooker. The only cost, a can of beer.

Summer is cool. Drinking Special Brew, paid for by begging, and stroking his mate's dog on a string. Life under the bridge. One lives under the bridge in his hole, others sleep on wood and cardboard nearby. Almost homely, tramp community.