A writing challenge: The door to nowhere: By Bill Holland-AKA Billybuc
There's nothing they wouldn't do for each other ' cos that's what friends are for.
A writing challenge: The door to nowhere. By Bill Holland AKA Billybuc
The alley below the apartment building was stewn with debris and dumptsters, rats and homeless people.
Was it only yesrerday?
Yesterday, when I was young and beautiful, so full of hope, vim and vigor
Today I'm dining out of a dumptster, holding a 57 magnum in my hand, oh so ready to pull the trigger
Once I stood tall against the turbulent storms that erupted unexpectedly in my safe and blissful haven
Today when the clouds bellow and rain begins to fall. I cry silent tears, remembering a time when my home was like God's refuge, known as heaven
A suburban home, a family, a good job, now my home is this alley behind the sleazy apartments up above
My worldly possessions piled high in a Walmart cart, dirty laundry, no keepsakes, void of memories or humanely love
I'm only one of many who gather here most every night
My story is familiar, my home gone with the wind, children left the nest and hubby decided he wanted to test the waters to see the bright city lights
There's Joe the drifter, scarred from boxing for his nightly fix
Eyesight fading, needing more and more poison to execute his knockout mix
There's Marge who works daily for her boss man, the pimp
This alley, her bedroom, an old mattress tossed, served it's purpose, earning a few bucks on her back, but still she must scrimp
You see Marge needs crack to function through the repetitious long days and nights
Her beauty fading fast. What will happen when the Johns look for someone younger who can pretend exciting joy, when in reality they curse the acts they perform, esp. the rough, playful slaps that invariably leads to hurtful fights
There's Granny Flo who diligently works the streets, begging for pocket change
Once she talked about her home, her family, her church, you know, the good life as a farmer's wife on a ranch with acres of free cattle range
One day she lost it all in the wink of the Devil's eye, home destroyed by fire, all perished before she returned from an old camp meeting that had lasted six long days
She cursed God repeatedly whilst in her daily drunken haze
There's Pete with his trusted, faithful friend Sparks. They've been together since his discharge from the military. He's afraid of noise, an auto backfire sends him screaming, looking for a safe place to hide
He's on medication for PTSD issued by the government, but he's antisocial preferring to sleep on the street with old Sparks laying by his side
This dirty alley is a lonely place, but a home to the misfits, the lonely, the drunks, the druggers, and the low class whore
There's nothing they wouldn't do to help each other ' cos that's what friends are for.
More by this Author
I woke up this morning to a beautiful, sunny day. My red bud tree in full bloom. As I watched, the birds were enjoying the tree, flying in and out around the newly awakened tree. A sight to behold.
We had a stormy night lasting throughout the night and morning. Watching the rain and lightening reminded me that stormy days will always come and go, and there will be sunny days following.
This is a fun response from a writing challenge, " The Encounter " By Genna East