Monday.
He sat there, his
pale face looked at me, blank eyes stared intently, a hand
clutched around a cup, a sign read, 'homeless and hungry, please
help,' I checked my pockets, no change, only a note, ten
pounds, I walk on.
Tuesday.
Still there
Wednesday.
Still
there.
Thursday.
He's gone.
He'd died last Sunday.
55 words
Page last updated on 12th November 1998
Maintained by Julian Fletcher (julian@innocent.com)