Siracusa, Sicily. \"Biglietto D’Ingresso Alle Catacombe, Di S. Giovanni\", the ticket read. \"Ticket Of Income To The Catacombe, S. Giovanni\".

Nightfall happens fast here in The Hero Zone, and with the darkness comes the harsh reminder of poverty and hunger. The worst part is lying there alone in the darkness, listening to your stomach growl and twist in protest at the rich smells wafting over from the other side of the wall, or snaking upwind from the pleasure yachts cruising the waterfront.

He couldn\'t stay in his office any longer. When lunch hit, he snagged his food-- a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and a banana in a brown bag-- and walked outside to a nearby park. Only had a half-hour. Though the park was close, he had to hurry.
It was a sunny day. A bit windy, so he had to sit with part of his thigh on the brown bag to stop it from blowing away. The air wasn\'t stale like in the office. The natural sunlight was so much more pleasant than the harsh fluorescent bulbs that made everyone look a sickly green.

You don\'t realize how much of your life is taken away by your job until it\'s given back to you, and you don\'t know what to do with yourself. You begin to feel like a prisoner who\'s been released after a long sentence, only to end up being uncomfortable and frightened by the world you saw only glimpses of while behind bars.