The house, that apt. we lived in. I went by it yesterday. For a moment, I wanted to walk up the steps and go inside. But then I remembered. I don’t have the key anymore. It isn’t ours. We don’t live in it together, like we did last year. You don’t live with me now. You moved up to a better apt, while I moved elsewhere. I miss you so much, my little one. I miss being near you, taking care of you. You gave me so much love and comfort. I thank you for that. My heart is not satisfied. It wants us to be living in the same place ASAP.
Archive for October, 2015
If you heard and listened to the individual stories of those left homeless. If you knew about the pain of being evicted, of not being able to pay the rent, of having nowhere to go with your kids and beloved animals, you’d understand that eviction and homelessness is not just about dollars and cents. For the tenant it can be—it is—a very emotional ordeal, with sleepless days and nights full of stress. It is Hell on Earth. Not having a lawyer to defend your rights in Housing Court is scary, even humiliating. The other person, the landlord, has someone, usually a shark-like attorney. A lawyer has to be there to fight for your interests because if the landlord has a lawyer, the tenant has to have one as well. It is only fair. Only by being in an evicted person’s shoes will someone understand what it feels like on a day to day basis. Only by living the agony will someone get to have some measure of compassion for the person who soon will have no home.
There was small container of food on a counter. The woman wearing the long thick coat stood by the counter getting a drink of water. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a man’s hand. It grabbed the container; the man went towards the door. The woman looked at the back of his body. Stupid bastard, she thought. Do you think I am hungry and desperate enough to take that tiny little bit of food? You have to be kidding, guy.
The man and woman walked by the church. Each was holding something green. Buy food! Buy food! The man shouted as he handed each sleepy person on the steps of the church $20. Don’t be foolish! Use this to buy food.
Slowly, it is one foot at a time. It is one small step at a time. It is better to catch one’s breath. They are heavy. The legs are heavy. It feels like walking carrying bags of cement. There is a chair over there, outside the coffee shop. It is a very tempting.
You have to go. You have to leave. There, across the street, but please not here. Someone handed her a dollar bill. For coffee the man said, to warm you up. But what can I do when a cup of coffee costs $2? Next time I will hand them back the bill and say forget it, not enough, she thought. It’s insulting anyway. Even at a food cart, coffee is about $1.50 or more. It is so windy! The wind jumps her from place to place; it’s worse than being evicted. She was evicted in the middle of Park Avenue.