Tag: homeless

E.M.’s RWP~#153 Largesse- Humble are the Homeless

On By Susan St.PierreIn Writing Prompts2 Comments

Today’s Random Word is largesse.

Until last year, Tony wasn’t known for his largesse; he’d once been totally broke and homeless.
But today, helpless cries led him to a dumpster behind the laundromat where he swept up three abandoned kittens with flushed cheeks from anger and disgust. He’d vowed never to hesitate to help care for anyone homeless and kittens also counted.
At his home, minutes later, the three precious little creatures were greeted by a clowder of roommates.
“And three makes lucky thirteen.” murmured Tony with a grin.
His two-room apartment occupied the whole basement of a 4-story building. It was quite expansive, and cozy, with nary an unhappy resident. It was well furnished and tidy too.
First, Tony busied himself with fresh towels and a large plastic milk crate creating a cozy spot for Curley, Larry and Moe, while the others just furiously swished their tails in anticipation of mealtime. Only the frightened, desperate, mews of the newbies could be heard.
Tony hung his wear-worn coat on a nail near the entrance and rustled ten cans from one of many, overstuffed duffel bags along the wall.
Now, the air filled with anticipatory yowls and purrs. Each cat waited its turn and knew its place. A scene not often realized even in single cat homes! The formerly homeless highly value routine, order, and safety.
One by one, they lined up along the feeding station and ate their fill. Each then went to the farthest corner, in a partitioned furnace room, and relieved himself or herself in the well-maintained exceptionally clean boxes. They then found their favorite spot on a number of sofas, for a thorough contented tongue washing.

Tony warmed some special ‘kitty milk’ formula and easily encouraged his ‘Stooges’ to lap some supper. He’d call the vet tomorrow for a proper check-up, a neutering schedule, and a chance for a loving adoption.
Then he sat in his, somewhat disheveled recliner and opened a bottle of wine to go with his dinner salad.
Before he settled into bed, he removed and folded his clothing and placed his wallet on a dresser after extracting a large wad of cash and placing it in a sock he’d stash under his pillow.
A rap at the door interrupted his evening ritual. Donning a tattered robe, Tony opened the door and accepted a delivery of two bags of kitty litter, a cat toy, and 24 cans of cat food from his tenant on the 4th floor. It was the price he had set for a month’s rent. It was the same charge for each formerly homeless family in all six buildings he had purchased when he had won the lottery a year ago.


https://emkingston.wordpress.com/2022/05/03/e-m-s-rwp-153-largesse/

Eugi’s Weekly Prompt- December 2, 2021- Noting the Nameless

On By Susan St.PierreIn Writing Prompts16 Comments
See the source image

She was part of my everyday scenery for almost a year. One, of many, homeless people who lined the street between my apartment and the office building.
Usually, she was a just a shadow on the corner that I caught from the corner of my eye, but never acknowledged, like a pole lamp in a corner. You’d notice it if it were gone, but it never required a conscious evaluation.
A couple of times, I almost walked into her. On both those occasions, she’d offered me the most genuine smile. A notable smile. One that didn’t belong on someone who was homeless. It was bright and hopeful…friendly and warm.
Along the two blocks to work, this morning, my eyes were locked on my cellphone catching up on all of my messages when I stopped in my tracks on the corner. Something was wrong, but what?
When I lifted my head, and took in my surroundings, there was an unusual empty space there. Suddenly, an invisible force grabbed, and shook, me to my core. The homeless lady- my homeless lady– was gone!

I was already late for work, so I continued as I searched for her face in passers-by.

The common area was buzzing when the elevator doors opened. There’d been a homicide nearby. A homeless woman had been stabbed and died on the corner very early that morning and the police were frantic trying to identify her.
My knees buckled as I grabbed for a chair feeling faint. I knew I’d miss her terribly and
I would forever regret not formally acknowledging her and treating her with value.

[ Then I wept for the Lady with the Notable Smile.]


https://amanpan.com/eugis-weekly-prompt-notable-december-2-2021/

Friday Fictioneers- Shower Power

On By Susan St.PierreIn Sideshows, Writing Prompts29 Comments
PHOTO PROMPT © Anne Higa  

There’d been a BIG problem with frequent flooding near the end platform of the subway.
The maintenance team finally busted down a wall, where the water was heavily seeping in, finding a one story shaft to an alleyway above.
Inside the shaft were soaps, shampoos, and neatly folded towels in a bucket connected to a pully.
The water spilled freely, with every rainstorm, from a cleverly constructed pipe leading from a building’s gutter system
A wooden fire escape ladder stood in the alley next to a sign:
Homeless Shower
PULL LID
Drop Ladder
NO singing unless the trains are running!

(100 words)
15 April 2021 | Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple

Homeless chptr 5

On By Susan St.PierreIn SideshowsLeave a comment

People sometimes call us lazy…

Cats are such explosive predators that the conservation of energy often makes the difference between eating and starving. We can sleep, or at least, rest for many hours at a time.

The next time I awoke, my stomach growled. I lifted my head to see Missy meticulously washing the calico kitten, which we would call Lil Bit. Actually, Lil Bit was almost a year old. She either came from small stock or had suffered malnutrition most of her life. They purred hypnotically in the corner of the cement barn, a fellowship of females that I would never know. If I hadn’t felt such hunger pangs, I may have considered a longer nap with their soothing sounds, my lullaby.

Missy had more than recovered from her initial terror and led us from the building. The foreign sounds were plenty yet Missy stepped with a confidence that I could not have gathered. That primal instinct to provide had made her strong. She approached a group of pigeons as she may have, sparrows in a dooryard. It was not successful and we ended the day in an alley scarfing down scraps from a Chinese restaurant. Egg noodles were extremely satisfying to our empty stomachs. A stack of wooden crates offered sanctuary to us for the night. We had no idea what dangers could creep up on us at any moment. The next day would be eventful, indeed.

Homeless chptr 3

On By Susan St.PierreIn Sideshows2 Comments

Do-gooders…people who know a better way for animals to live…

I woke up in a cage inside of the belly of a roaring monster. The last thing that I remember is the farmer’s daily offering of milk beside the milking parlor. It was strangely sweeter than I remembered it to be but with a belly full of vermin, I drank it right up. But now, my world was spinning and I felt very ill.

As I got my bearings, I realized that there were other cages which contained other cats, one of which was Missy. She looked so frightened and I was too far from her and separated by metal bars. I yowled in dismay which caused a violent shake of my cage and an increase in my nausea.

At the chance of seeming conceited, I must tell you that I am a magnificent blue-gray specimen. My eyes, the bright yellow color of the field corn kernels which used to pelt us from beneath the silo elevator, but my appearance paled to that of Missy’s. She was the most beautiful shade of golden brown with one distinct white patch between her eyes. She retained the stripes of our wild ancestors and could blend into any hay-field in the sun. We had grown up in the same barnyard born to different mothers. I have loved her as long as I remember. My heart ached as I watched her cower with helplessness and terror. I would not let her down. We were going to survive and we would be together!

Homeless chptr 2

On By Susan St.PierreIn SideshowsLeave a comment

They call me Scat. They call many of us by that name but it’s most often meant for me. My story began on a farm. Life was good for a time…

Mice are quite tasty when they are small and I was the best at finding them among the hay stacks. Listening and patience…a rustle, wait for it…a squeak, to the left…my tail often tried to give me away as it twitched with anticipation, but not today. Shadows run along the wall. I cannot really see them.  My whiskers bristle and point them out. Every single nerve ending in my body is charged with electricity…waiting…listening…locating the nest.

Then with instinct from my fore-felines, the saber toothed equivalent of perfect killing machines, I pounce!

My belly full and spirits high, I had no idea that this day would be my last in the country.

Homeless

On By Susan St.PierreIn Sideshows2 Comments

I felt peculiar this morning as I climbed from the box that had sheltered me from the rain. Dampness lay all around yet I was warm and dry. The breaking day made the sky a color that has no name…orangey,pinkish,purple, is all I can say. I had no idea if I were dreaming or if the world had tipped and started a new. There in the corner of the alley was my old companion. She lay so still that I may not have noticed her if not for the patch of white in her hair. As I approached her I could see the ever so slight heaving of her chest that indicates life still occupied her corner. A tiny infant lay sleeping beside her untouched and unaware of the harsh reality we call life.

Memories of such comfort flooded my body and I shivered quite violently for several moments. The new mother opened her eyes and purred. All was well for THAT moment. There would be shuffling feet, clanging garbage cans and traffic, as the story goes for the homeless. The infant would know hunger and cruelty all too soon.

Eyes still shut and innocence blanketing her, she suckled blissfully ignorant next to her mother. All was well…