A dog went by the pizzeria on Driggs Avenue in Williamsburgh, Brooklyn. When he saw the window, he rushed to it and put his front paws up. He remembered that that was the place where the pizza guy gave him yummy pizza a week or two ago. The dog’s owner pulled him away from the window and they walked on—the dog, very reluctantly.
Archive for June, 2010
She Went Down
A line at the soup kitchen and the woman, without any warning, fainted. Her eyes were open, great big eyes, staring up at the people around her. Don’t move her, someone said. Someone else asked for bags to be placed under her head. A man asked her if he could help. The woman’s lips tried to move, but couldn’t. She understood but did not seem to care. The ladies were called in to get their food. 5 minutes later, the woman was seen walking away.
Let it get to me, she said silently as she watched the boarding pet store employee washing a dog in the sink. Just give me some of that. Water! I need that water! It is so hot out there and there is no air conditioning here. After you bathe the dog, get me in the sink and let me have as much water as I can handle.
Why should I have to shout and yell and shout and yell some more in order to be heard? I find this extremely annoying. I am the sick person here and I don’t have any health insurance—no hope of getting anything remotely resembling health insurance. I hate having this tooth infection. I think about it all the time. It will not go away by itself, just because I can’t afford a dentist. Then what will happen to me?
The bird stood there, in the middle of the floor of the subway station. He looked right and left. There was no food. The woman opened her polka dot duffle bag and took out a bagel from her soup kitchen bag. She broke it into small pieces and put it near the bird. He limped on one leg to get his food. She zipped up the duffel bag and walked to the street. from a little distance she turned to look at the bird. He was still in the middle of the floor, all alone.
Scarecrow. The big strapping teenager called the woman a scarecrow. He was throwing his sneaker at the birds gathered in the playground. The birds just wanted to eat. The woman asked him not to do it. If he didn’t like birds, just leave them alone, she said. Let them be. They don’t bother you. He called her a scarecrow again. She said he was dumb and stupid.
Oh, the water! Oh, the power of the water coming out of the shower head! I fantasize about it in these hot, very hot, summer evenings. The water caresses my body, all of my body, and I smile. I laugh in sheer delight and wonder. I feel like a new woman. It’s as if all of my dreams have come true. I am me.
I don’t wear a watch anymore. I have learned to ask people on the street what time it is. At one time I had 7 gold watches. Some of these watches were 14 karat gold, some were 18 karat. A couple of watches had diamond faces. All this is gone. The only cheap watch I had up to a few weeks ago was one I bought for $10 in Norfolk, VA 2 years ago. It broke and I haven’t been able to fix it. I have kept the watch for sentimental reasons. I love and miss Norfolk. When I feel sad I think back to my sister’s neighborhood with the nice houses, green lawns and shady trees.
I live in an increasingly hostile world. I don’t mean that the things that are talked about in the news are hostile. I am referring to my own personal world. To put it bluntly: Nobody cares what happens to me or my health. Infected teeth are not, I have been told by several dentists, to be taken lightly. And yet, I am walking around Brooklyn and Manhattan with 2 infected teeth. I have not been shy for a long, long time. People in my world know about the dangers of letting this infection just stay inside me. Money, as always is the issue and I have none. I cannot speak for my acquaintances. The NYU Dental School people cannot help me if I don’t pay them. I cannot pay them or anybody. Now I am forced to ask this question: Am I going to just be allowed to die? This is another consequence of the GA mortgage fraud/foreclosure tragedy. My life has been going downhill since I went to Atlanta back in May of 2002. Is this going to be it for me? It is my life and I am interested in knowing the answer.
There he was, laying in the middle of the parking lot on Hope Street, off Metropolitan Avenue in Williamsburgh, Brooklyn. The sun was shining on his back but the cat was not happy. The eyes, the eyes looked sad and lost. His head moved when people walked by him. They said: what a pretty cat and moved on. He looked at the cars.