Archive for October, 2014

Looker On

October 28, 2014

The afternoon was bright and sunny, a perfect late October afternoon in NYC. The long haired young man in his mid 20s was sitting on the sidewalk of a busy street with 2 other men of the same age. The young man’s dog sat at his feet.An empty pizza box was near them. The box opened and almost hit the dog in the face. His master led him by the leash to the corner. He put his hand inside a garbage can–only a can of Pepsi. The young man put the can back in. He walked to the curb and vomited not once but twice. All the while the dog looked on patiently. His eyes were sad, his tail between his legs. The young man and the dog then sat on the sidewalk again.



October 21, 2014

No, Don’t make them. Don’t allow it because you can’t. There are no plans to be made. It’s always here today, somewhere else tomorrow. It is never permanent. It is never safe. Always on the move. Always with the suitcase.

The Bagel

October 10, 2014

3 stone steps and she was inside where all the food was kept. Someone got in front of her. He’s younger and quicker, she thought, but still it is not polite. The room was large and the bright yellow light reminded her of the sun that didn’t shine outside anymore.

The first man behind the large table offered her a container of a container of soup. She declined it with a smile. Just milk, please. The second man had a nearly empty bag of bagels and bread next to him. You can have one bread and one pastry, he said. Thank you. Then she walked out the door with the others.