The Hungry Bunch

Late. It was late. About 100 people were gathered waiting for it. The men stood against the walls of the tall office buildings and the women were by the curb craning their necks. Traffic. Midtown traffic was bad that time of day when everyone wanted to forget all about their work day and just go home.
Someone shouted. “There! There he is! It’s the blue car.” They all rushed to meet it and the man behind the wheel. The sandwich man parked his car. In the back seat there were all sort of goodies, like sandwiches, muffins and sodas. The soup kitchen isn’t what it used to be.

Nickel

Nickel and dime, dime and nickel. So carefully gathered, so slowly gathered over so many years. Gone, all gone. Scrimping and saving always. What’s the use?

Down

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 on the ground. Her whole body hurt but the chin got the worst of it. She hoped someone in the street full of people would offer to help her up. No one did. She 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. She had to keep going.

Lost Woman

The line was not long that afternoon. A man stood by a long white table. “Sandwich? Orange? Milk? Juice?” “Sandwich, no milk, no orange, just juice”, she told him. He gave her the stuff , putting it in the white bag, and she walked down the 3 steps into the street. “Happy 4th.” A woman said. She looked at her, seeing nothing. The heavy makeup on her face made her look older; only the eyes had a little bit of life in them. “Happy 4th of July,” the woman repeated gently. “Is it the 4th? I didn’t know.”