FWR is feeding the lockdown fox.
City fox crosses, still wary on the traffic-less road. Searching for discarded take-aways that no longer litter the night.
The skinny fox is silhouetted against sparkling Christmas lights, forgotten by staff that haven't entered the shuttered store since last November.
2.30 am on a snowy February morning. Blue lights in the distance, racing to yet another false alarm. Wind rattling windows, sounding alarms, keen to make the city seem less dead.
Fox moves on, secondhand starvation forcing it into the freezing night. Not knowing why it mourns the missing crowds. Longing for the days of an easy meal.
Snow covers fox's tracks, erasing all signs of life on the road, as the wind whistles sadly around the deathly still city.