BETRAYAL

So I go out for a walk, nothing unusual, needed a break from the flat, do the loop after dropping down Ninetree Hill and onto Stokes Croft where I paid for two packs of tictacs in the post office.
Avoided the Island had a couple of drinkers wobbling about on the pavement in front of three or four sitting on the wall over the road from Mr. Tomato,.
Along Jamaica and up onto Dove Street between the Elim church and the hostel deciding not to use the bottom lift because of earlier.
Past the HRS truck was parked the top of King Square and a couple, each with a tin, kissing at the bottom of Spring Hill. Why are there so many drinkers out on the street tonight?
Outside Carolina a man, bald, black short-sleeved tee-shirt, let a dog off a lead, said, ‘Off you go,’ the dog ran towards the dog-toilet area.
The man turned to me, who’d just trod on a cigarette butt looked like it might’ve had a metal object in its end, twisted it into the ground and it hadn’t, he turned to me he did and said, ‘Wish the missus was like that,’ like the dog he meant.
‘Does she come when you call?’ I said.
‘Not my wife,’ he said, ‘which is why I have to give her a bit of this...’ swiping the air with his left arm, demonstrating, I knew.
I didn’t say anything, kept my head down, as I’d done the whole walk, thought about saying, ‘Goodnight,’ but felt it'd be a betrayal.