I write to keep me sane. I write so that my words may outlive my life. I write to find redemption

Wednesday, October 31, 2007


Well this is the last post before NaBloPoMo and NaNoWriMo ( both of which I have no idea how I am going to handle keeping up with!).

Three Word Wednesday words-


Rock Bottom- Part Two by Sara

After spending the last few nights sleeping on the streets of the Windy city, it feels like all the dirt in Chicago got together and took up residence on my skin. When you are curled up, wearing all the clothes you own, and keeping warm by a trash can fire, it don’t matter if you used to be a junior level executive at one of the cities premier financial institutions- you are a bum, plain and simple, like the one sleeping on the right and left of you.

I told Thomas I would only crash at his place for the weekend but, after being here five minutes, I already am starting to feel more human and less savage, and I can't imagine leaving in two days. He can't send me back out there again.

He’s my brother. He owes me.

So I start to take from him- like a vulture- a shower, a shave, my clothes get washed, my stomach filled with all the bread and lunch meat in the fridge. Thomas is still holed up in his spare room, where he said he’s on the net. Probably gambling. He’s always had a problem with that. My mother used to tell him to shape up and “Act more like, Eric.” We buried her a few years back. I don’t think I could stand to look her in the eyes if she was alive today.

While my clothes are in the dryer, I head into the bedroom to see if Thomas has a robe I can borrow. But, like everything else in my life since Angie threw me out, that plan don’t quite work out like I expected.

I trip over his size twelve Nikes, stumble for a few steps while I try to stay upright, and then take a header into the corner of his wooden bed frame. I land on the floor with a thud, my forehead bleeding, and stars dancing before my eyes. The phone and three books from his night stand managed to fall on top of me. Pushing them off, I start to haul myself upright, when, out of the corner of my eyes I see green. Money green.

Jerking my whole head to the side so I can look under the bed I see a black bag that’s zipper is slightly open. It is filled to the brim with cash. My hands are on it before I can complete a thought.

If I took just a handful of this, I could get a place to stay, some suits, new copies of my resume. I could be back on my feet again.

If I take it all.......

He’s my brother. He owes me.


Note- I am thinking about keeping this going. Maybe writing from Thomas POV next.


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