Down

July 22, 2014

What was she doing here in this hot weather? The day was hot and humid, yet going in and out of the subway would have been too expensive. Her chin hit the sidewalk. It happened almost without her realizing it. One minute she was up and the next down. Her whole body hurt but the chin got the worst of it. he hoped someone in the street full of people would offer to help her up. No one did. he struggled up again as best she could, picking up her purse. She shook her head and on she went. The day was too bright to think about heartlessness.

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Evicted

September 15, 2018

Evicted

Oh, you don’t know. You have no idea what it’s like to be evicted. You have no idea how it makes you feel. It is horrible, similar to being the unwilling protagonist in a horror movie. The emotional pain is beyond belief; it scares and humiliates a person. The part that comes after you are forced to move out is even worse. There you are, with bags of stuff all around you, black bags, white bags and yellow bags. There is nowhere to go. Whether the weather is good or not too good is not important. You still feel crappy, like a desperate person in a 1930s movie, hugging yourself for comfort. Seeing the sidewalk, which is now your home, is enough to make you sick to your stomach. You want to get some sleep, but there is always a security guard somewhere to stop you. You can’t stay here, he says. Go somewhere else. Go where, you want to ask him, but why bother?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Box

September 12, 2018

The Box

I open the box—I open it just a little bit. I’ve heard so much about the contents of the box! There are beautiful things in it, incredibly exciting things that I’ve never seen before. The colors are bright and alive—blue, yellow, red and pink. There is no black. There would never be anything black inside the box. There would not be anything grey; grey is dreary and drab. I stare at everything; my mouth is open. I can’t believe what I see. From nowhere, someone’s hand slaps my hand. My fingers hurt and I quickly pull them away. I want to cry, but I can’t. When will I see what is inside the box again? Passion—I love the passion the box inspires in me. I enjoy life because of the box.

 

 

 

Delayed Reaction

September 7, 2018

You bitch! You dumb idiot! Who do you think you are? I made an effort that I shouldn’t have made and it was all because of you. The man’ face got red and his mouth showed all his teeth. She looked at him, her eyes wide and scared. What is going on in his life, she thought to say these things to me? What have I done? Somehow she excused herself telling him she’d see him in a couple of hours. When she left the store, she crossed the street and hid by the supermarket. Tears came down her face. I can’t understand. I don’t know what to do. I can’t bear it  anymore.

The Stairs

September 2, 2018

I see you. After years gone by, I see you. You’re rushing up the stairs and I go after you. The roof–that is your place to hide in. There is danger there, except that you don’t realize it. Your 4 legs take you everywhere and the roof is your playground. I look around and I discover where you are. I want to grab you, but you are very intelligent. You’re too fast for me. There is a recklessness in you that I admire; at the same time I want, I wanted,  protect you. I love you. Wherever you are now, please let me find you again.

Will It?

September 2, 2018

My heart is hurt and bewildered. Will the thing I want most in life now ever see the light of day? Will it ever be seen, appreciated, recognized and acknowledged? Will the long years of effort finally pay off? Or is failure going to be what I have to look forward to? It is the same failure that has long hard at my face, hard at my dreams as I worked persistently to achieve what I wanted and needed. The hope in my heart is nearly gone. It is just about to give up.

You Can’t

August 29, 2018

You Can’t

There are no safe places.  She sat on the crate outside an empty store. Her cup wasn’t out. She was just there with a cup of Starbucks coffee in her hand. It was her treat to her herself—one of the very few pleasant experiences of her day. The security guard came to her out of nowhere. I am sorry, he said. You can’t sit there. She looked at him. I will be here for just a few minutes, but next time call the cops if you want. I am warning you he told her as he left to walk into the restaurant next door. What is the use? She got up and left. I will deal with this tomorrow. Today I am tired.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Drama!

August 17, 2018

Drama!

Drama—it’s the drama. The drama keeps me going. The drama gives me whatever life I have left. I need to stand out, to have people see me and point their finger at me. There! There I am! Look at me! I need you to look at me! I get a kick out of the stress of the moment. There are many moments of stress in my life, one after the other. They never stop. I feel like a God. I am Somebody. I am not nothing; the nothing I’ve become. I am an important person again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Bags

July 30, 2018

The Bags

She entered the supermarket on Broadway near the Williamsburgh Bridge and after using the bathroom, she put her bags in the shopping cart. She walked to where in the summer they put out fresh cut up fruit. None today, she thought, shrugging her shoulders. She went to where the bread was behind glass windows and put one long whole wheat roll in a paper bag. In the cheese department, there were no more cheese samples. It was late, after 7 P.M. Her third sample stop was the cracker container. She tasted one or more; the head cashier, an older woman with bleached red hair closed the container while her hand was trying to get a cracker. The woman paid no attention and walked on. What else could she buy today besides the bread? She chose the cheapest wrapped cheese for $4.00. She couldn’t afford much. If she liked the samples it was because she was hungry, hungry most of the time. Somewhere near the coffee aisle, a short stocky man in his 30s stopped her. Come here, he said. I want tell you something.  She guessed it was the manager of the store. From now on, you will put your bags underneath, he said. You take too many samples. Other people want to eat too. What samples, she wanted to ask him. There are none left today. He called over the older woman in the fake red hair. Evelyn, she is going to put the bags underneath. If I take samples, the accused woman said, it’s because I often don’t have enough to eat. His brown eyes didn’t seem to care. Then you come to me. She didn’t believe him. She had been eating samples for about 2 years and people walking down the street had been offering her food for even more years, so what was the big deal? She knew she looked raggedy and the people shopping at the supermarket were on the prosperous side. If the manager hadn’t said anything about putting the bag underneath, she simply wouldn’t have gone back to the supermarket. As it was she felt singled out and humiliated. Often she bought stuff from the supermarket even if she didn’t need to because it was her first stop after feeding her cats. Having someone imply that she was a potential shoplifter was making her Sunday stressful and bleak.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Beer Feet

July 23, 2018

Beer Feet

He stumbled; he fell on the floor. I am alright, he told her. Everything’s fine. She looked at him and shook her head. She helped him sit on the cushion. Her bare feet felt something. She bent over with a paper towel and wiped the floor. Beer! It’s beer! The floor is all full of beer. The cans were empty. I fell because of the water, he said. No, it’s the beer; I can smell it a mile away, she answered. He put his head on the cushion by the wall. He grabbed the blanket and covered his face.

 

 

 

Leftovers

July 12, 2018

Leftovers

People walked by with lunch food—paper bags and plastic bags full of food. Some looked down at the two people sitting on the sidewalk by the curb and walked on. Some gave them looks as if to ask: Why don’t you just work already? The man was not too thin, but his companion was an elderly woman. Her arms were skinny and her eyes had no light in them. Someone stopped by the woman. Would you like this? The woman grabbed the bag and thanked the person. It’s a burger and fries. The man shrugged. Take it. She opened the container and chewed hard, as fast as she could. I am hungry. I am really hungry, leftovers or no. This is food.