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.
It doesn’t matter now. You should have adopted me. I would have been loyal to you. We would have taken long walks in the park and the streets of your city. Your family would have been my family. But the shelter wouldn’t wait for you to arrive for me so they stuck a needle in my leg. Now I am dead. I am gone and you and I never met. A person petted me on the head before I closed my eyes forever. If I had been able to talk, I would have said thank you. Thank you for your kindness. I am so sorry my death has made you cry.
Sleep. Lots of sleep. I need to escape, to somehow get away. It will only be for a few hours but in those hours I won’t think and I won’t feel.I am being tossed out, put out on the street. I don’t know where else to go. Sleep is good. It is like a warm hug all around me.
It is you, you and only you. Yours is the name that I pronounce, yours is the image that I see in my mind’s eye when I think about the living being I love the most. You were there when no one else was. You were next to me when I needed you.
The person had short hair, almost crew cut style and dark hair, dark skin. The clothes were on the beat up side, pants and a sweatshirt. The person held on to the pole while the train was moving. “I get my food and clothes from the garbage. If you have any food with you that you don’t need, I’d gladly take it.” Nobody answered the person. A man touched the person on the shoulder and put several coins inside the plastic bag hanging from the person’s left arm. ” Thank you, sir,” the person said smiling a bit. The person moved towards the middle of the car. ” It can happen to you. It can happen to any of us. I get my food and clothes from the garbage. Could you spare a dime. Only a dime.”
I want to be held. I want to be held and comforted. I would like for someone to touch my head and caress my hair. I need a hug. I have to know that this horrible displacement experience is not happening again. My body has to be caught before it falls on the harsh pavement. I don’t want any bruises on my body or my face. The pain inside me is bad enough.
It isn’t a home. It isn’t my home. It never was. The things I have in the poisoned apt., the books and belongings that are dear to me try hard but it’s no good. I feel like a prisoner. I feel like an outcast, someone who doesn’t belong there or anywhere else. The two 5 day Quit notices I received have a lot to do with this feeling. I see the bed that my cat and I share. She likes the bed and thinks it is hers and ours. It isn’t. I see us out there on the street in this brutal New York weather. I cringe as if standing in front of someone who is going to push me/us off a cliff or mountain.
A long line. The men and a few women stood by the curb. It was 6 P.M. The man they called the sandwich or muffin man was late.He usually came at 5:30. There had been a snowstorm the previous day and the man lived upstate. Someone in the group said that the man was snowed in. Still, the people waited. One or two walked across the street to the area with seats. After a while, some gave up and left. The sandwiches he handed out once a week were a Godsend and the blueberry/chocolate muffins sweetened what was often a bitter day. Another day, next week. Then, he’d come again.
Outside Grand Central: A tall woman on the young side with a large and expensive, tourist-type camera. Her black boots went all the way up to her hips. A man with sandy hair and another camera. These two persons stood in front of the homeless man with his Beagle dog. The woman crouched in front of them, taking pictures from this angle and that other angle. The man took pictures of the man and the she dog from the other sides. Someone walking by observed the scene. Why is this happening? The man and the dog are not supposed to be on display for the pleasure of tourists. The observer watched the photographers for several minutes. Enraged as she was, she did not dare say anything. When the tourists were done, the observer walked behind them. Try as she might, she could not catch what they were saying. I wish I had the courage to tell them this is not right. I walk by the man and the dog often. Seeing how much he loves her makes me smile.I cannot give them a home, but I care about them. She is a sweet older dog.
The legs were spread out. Half the body took up the other 2 seats. The body was covered with a thick blanket; the happy colors–red, pink and green in the shape of a palm tree were those of a beach blanket. People got on the subway, looked at the body. At one of the stops, the head came out of hiding and read the name of the subway station. The man with the dark eyes and moustache wrapped himself again.