Posts Tagged ‘life in a the Bronx rooming house’


March 2, 2017


I own the cat. The fat man’s voice was loud and strong. My boss gave him to me. But do you take care of the cat? Do you feed him, take him to the vet, see to it that he gets his shots and is neutered? No, the fat woman said. You wanted to do that. But it is required. Any vet will tell you that. And were you born in this country? No, the woman answered. Then you are undocumented just like me. Me like you? I am an American citizen. I can’t be like you. You are uncouth and rude. The argument went on and on. The fat man pretended to dial 911. Let’s call emergency, he said. We’ll say that there is a schizophrenic woman here. She’s been making threats. The woman watched in wonder. She was living in a nightmare, a horrible nightmare with these people. It couldn’t be real. How can it be? How did I get to this point? The fat woman insulted my mother and called me a scarecrow and I don’t know what else. How can I be with these people? I am not safe here. I have to go.



Shadow Game

February 23, 2017

The door of a room was open. A woman stood with her cat. She made a noise, a noise she did not intend to make. The man, she thought. The menace will wake up if he hears it. Another door opened; the fat man stood several inches away from her. His eyes were not friendly. She could tell this even in the dark. As she was about to close her door and pull the curtain, his shadow looked like danger. Quickly, she shut her door.