And Then He’d Dream

He smelled. Looked dirty. Clothes too big for him. Hair disheveled. Could have used a shave. Beard below his chin.

Carried a gym bag with him. Just a plain old green bag he used to carry books, a shirt, pair of wool socks. Had a copy of Moby Dick and Leaves of Grass. This would comfort him at night.

Slept in a public parking garage. Up on the top floor. Over in a corner. Kept a blanket downstairs by the dumpsters. Hidden by newspapers,various debris, sometimes a tarp. It was a miracle the Mexican cover was never stolen. He got it years ago at a Salvation Army. There was no room for it in his bag.

On any given day you could find him in the park. He’d spend hours there watching people pass by. Moms with baby strollers, businessmen on lunch break, kids playing soccer in the fields. He’d look at them and wonder, how did they pull that off? To be normal. He’d then read from his books and think, we all have our cross to carry.

And then he’d dream.

Published by:

dmseay

The writing is based on my surroundings and what I've been surrounded by. This language is coarse and politically incorrect; which I make no apologies for. These characters are not nice and to use any other dialogue would be disingenuine. That being said, I choose to roll the dice. dm seay

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