The Squeaky Wheel Of A Shopping Cart

Mornings come early and he is thankful he has another day to call his own.  His home is a tarp hidden away sheltering him from the cold night air.   He wakes, stretches and assesses his surroundings.  His body aching from sleeping on a bed made out of a cardboard boxes and old coats.  He is so tired and still can’t believe this is his life now, he knows he is lucky though, because he has seen it worse.

As he slowly makes his way down the alley, the squeaky wheels of his shopping cart fill the silence he is used to.  He is a bottle collector and that is how he earns his living. It’s hard work for a man of his age; its cold out there these days and his feet hurt with every step he takes.  He walks slowly because the weight of the world won’t forgive his sins so he shuffles along trying to make the best of it all.

He doesn’t feel sorry for himself anymore, and to be honest, there is no use.  He has given up on a lot of dreams and it doesn’t matter like it used to.  There is work to be done so he shakes off his thoughts and loneliness and sets off for the day.   As he passes by a few familiar faces, he nods a hello but for the most part, he keeps to himself.  It’s a tough way to live and its survival of the fittest.  He keeps his cart close because he has learned the hard way and has been beat up and robbed and doesn’t trust anymore.

As he rummages through the garbage searching for bottles that will pay for a few cigarettes or a cold drink, his thoughts creep back into his mind. This isn’t how he dreamed life would be, and all he is now trying to do is survive another day but he often shakes his head realizing he has nothing to exist for and asks himself why even bother …