mysunwolf Profile

Tough Contest: The streets had a funny way of making you nameless after they made you homeless. No longer Mr. Carson, but a shadow turned invisible by the heartless sunlight. He had barely even noticed when that little girl in her pretty pink dress had been hurried past him by her mother. Before the crash, the air had been sweet with opportunity, but now it seemed like maybe that was the perfume of stupidness to hide the stench of lies. Now, the truth was laid bare, but there was nothing to be done, the suffering were still forced to their knees, forced to beg on the streets. That was where he’d ended up, anyway. No wife, no home to go back to, no money except the quarter in his pocket. His beefy, calloused hand dove into his pocket again to be sure the quarter was still there, and he took it out to examine it. The quarter, shiny at its mint, looked like it had been through hell. It was covered in a thick black grime, and the outline of Washington’s head was all that was visible. It was tough, though. When this stinking depression was over, it would still be around.