The cats. The cats without a home. I see them; I feed them. Something moves forward. Something happens to make their existence a little better.My books. My beloved books. They have been a part of me forever. There is no self interest involved. My books and I know one another. We want nothing but to be companions, to help calm the sadness inside.
Archive for May, 2014
Life. Life beneath one’s true potential. To look bad, not the way one is used to looking, to be less than one’s true self. To see others, whoever others are, have what you want and need, what one feels one deserves. To not be able to get used to this lesser life.To not understand why this lesser life must be accepted as the new reality. Not to be able to wear a robe because a robe would mean one has a home, not to feel comfortable anywhere with the rain pounding outside.
She walked slowly, as if she didn’t want to move. Her hands dragged two large carts, one full of black bags the other with light green bags. The sun shone on her face. Her smile was grim. Fifth Avenue at that time of the afternoon scared her, with all the tourists pushing and shoving. The way she looked scared the passers by. Her baggy black pants, a grey T shirt, dark fake leather jacket and light sneakers all needed washing. I am not me anymore, she said to herself. I am it, an it, whatever that is. By now I must be a bum.
A young woman. She is sitting in one of the church benches. Her eyes look at the floor. Will I see him today? Will he show up soon? I haven’t seen him since last Tuesday, a week ago. I love him. I can’t get enough of it, of being near him.
There they were–all the people walking hurriedly past you. You didn’t notice. All you were interested in was the black ball in your mouth. You chewed the ball first on one side, then another. Your German shepherd body was spread out on the floor. You were a great big kid having fun. A cop held you by the leash. You looked up at him with adoring eyes. Your smile spoke for the words you couldn’t utter.
“Let me get you something to cover you.It’s raining hard.” The man smiled at the woman standing in front of him. He saw her; she was not some invisible face in the crowd, another face lost in the streets of wet NYC. The man came back with a transparent white bag. He made a hole for the right arm, another hole for the left. “I don’t know if you want your head to be covered too.” “Yes, I do. Thank you.” “God bless you,” he said. “God bless you, too. Bye.” When the woman got to the corner of 42nd and Lexington, she stood there even when the light had changed. Tears streamed down her face. ” I am grateful,” she thought to herself.” I am not as invisible as I thought.”