Archive for May, 2016

Go!

May 26, 2016

Go!

I don’t like the guy. He is mean. I was asking about her in a nice way. I wasn’t bothering anybody. The fat guy opened the door. He looked down at me with those beady eyes. The fat hands made a noise. I didn’t like the noise. Just one word:  Go! I was so scared I ran all the way down. Now I am on the street again. I am on the run.

 

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Cling.

May 26, 2016

Cling

I huddled close to the person in the blue gown. She’s offering me food. I need to get close to her again. I eat quickly right after I look at her. I don’t want her to run away, to disappear and leave. I was a tiny little one when I started living on the street. I have jumped from house to house and gate to gate. It’s been almost 6 years. My friends and I play and run around but street life is a pain. Nobody has wanted me before now. I would like a home so I can be somebody’s lap cat–just the person and me.

 

What Home

May 24, 2016

What Home

It was a good question. What is a home? She thought about it, about the dear 4 letter word that made her feel warm and pleasant inside. She didn’t know anymore. At one point it would have been a place to be protected from the world, the daily routine, the routine that went nowhere no matter how hard she tried. Home could be the place to take a shower anytime she wanted, to make herself tea and something good to eat. A home where she could keep a cat, a dog, pets to love and who would love her. But so many unpleasant things had happened. No, she didn’t want to be or sound like a victim. The bottom line is that she was tired. She still wanted a home. The options were slim at best, nil at worst. She finally got it! A home was a place she wouldn’t have to leave ever.

 

 

Paunch

May 23, 2016

Paunch

The man, middle-aged and fat, looked at her. “You’re old. You’re ancient, lady.” The woman stared at him. You call me old? I will not allow you to call me old.” She could have added: How dare you call me old? You are an undocumented immigrant who guzzles beer. You are over 40 and you have a paunch.” She could also have mentioned the domestic violence scenes she had overheard from her bedroom. He shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever. You just get that cat out of here. This is my home. It is not your home. You rent a room here and that’s it.” The woman couldn’t believe it. “How can this be your home? You don’t even pay rent as the woman’s boyfriend. You don’t pay, period. You live here for free.” She wished she could have said this, but the man was a lot stronger than she was. “Remember, this is not a hospice or a shelter.” “She was tired; she wanted to go to sleep and forget the scene had ever happened. “ The cat will be out by tomorrow.” In the morning, when she went to look for the cat, she was gone.

Subway Ride

May 21, 2016

Subway Ride

Doors opened; doors closed. People came out; people went inside. Some shoved hard, others said excuse me. No one offered a seat to anyone. Arms hang from straphangers; hands held tight to poles. The heat was of no help. “Sardines, that’s what we are. We are all sardines,” someone said. The subway stopped. Someone with a suitcase had a hard time making her way out. “If you touch my child, I’ll touch you,” a mother told the suitcase carrier. The child was in a stroller. “And if you do touch me, the police will touch you.” The suitcase carrier said something about having to put up with certain people. The subway doors closed behind her.

 

 

Water

May 15, 2016

Water

It kept coming down. The tourist tried to protect it, but the water wouldn’t stop. The top of the suitcase, where the zipper was, was wet. She took out a piece of paper towel from her pocket to get rid of some of the wetness. A woman walking by stopped and stared. I had a suitcase like that once, she told the tourist. During rainy nights, it and I had a hard time keeping myself and the suitcase dry.