No Place at All

No Place My belongings and I are displaced—totally displaced. We are nowhere and it is painful. My belongings and I have no home. It is real. It is no lie. We might as well be in the middle of the sidewalk. We wait in vain for someone—anyone—to come pick us up. We look here and we look there at the people passing by. Nothing. It starts to rain and we get wet. All the cardboard boxes with the Burberry coat and my father’s red velvet jacket in tnem could get ruined. I would lose the memories. I would not have the look on my father’s face when he bought me the velvet jacket. He smiled and hugged me before helping me try it on. We were prosperous and he wanted to treat me to something nice. My father reminds me of expensive things. I do it for what was then because I can never forget. But if I could, I would put us all in a home, a home with big closets and lots of sunlight.


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