Story prompt from photo 4

[lynnmosher]

Hadn't done this in a while. Thought it would be fun to do another one. Will try to do one myself. Usual 500 (or so) word limit.

[BettyJ]

Thought I'd try my hand at this. I was intrigued by the picture. Don't know if I did it justice.

Only thing about sleeping on the street, you can never sleep late. Soon as the sun’s up, there they are, walking to and fro and are they quiet, so a brother can get his rest? You kiddin’ me? They’re talking on those cellphones! Some are even talking to themselves, or so I thought, till I realized they had bluetooth. Bluetooth! What a crock! Sometimes I feel so free, no cellphone, no bluetooth in my ear!

Look at that one there, walking by in such a hurry, trying not to notice me. Wondering, probably, why I’m out here, sleeping on the street. Why an able-bodied buster like me ain’t working and paying my way! I can tell. You know, I think I might be psycho—no, that’s not the word—psychic, that’s it! I think I can read minds, yeah. Since I been out here, I think I got more keen in the noggin.

The ones I hate the most, or maybe hate is too strong a word, but I mind them the most, I guess. That’s the little ones. One day a little guy—cute little buster, too—he just crouched right down in front of me and stared dead on into my eyes. “What you doing, mister?” says he. “Why you camping out in the middle of town? Why you ain’t in the woods, or the mountains, or the lake camping?” Oh, he was a smart one.

“I’m waiting,” said I.

“Waiting for what?” says he.

“Waiting for you to go away and leave me alone,” says I, all mean like. Felt real bad after that too. He took off in a big hurry. I guess it came out more mean that I planned, but I don’t want those little guys getting the wrong idea. I don’t want them thinking this is a good place to be.

Then there’s the religious fanatics, come to help me out. They talk to me, hours on end. Want to buy me lunch, want to take me to a shelter.

I got all the shelter I want, thank you very much and I can get a bite to eat when I need one. I got better things to do than listen to that religious talk! Listened to that all my life, and that’s one reason I’m right here.

The only one I ever give credence to is the man who’s been there. Like the one that sat down next to me one day, not long ago and said not a single word. He handed me a fresh baked roll and a bottle of water. Then he just got up and left. I opened the wrapper around the bread and there were the words, “Jesus Loves You” baked right into the bread! Now that’d make a fellow think. I ate it all, even the words. Best bread I ever ate.

[lynnmosher]

Cool, Betty! I like that perspective. It's different. Way to go! I love how photos will stir a story within us.

[Laina]

Very nice, Betty. Way to go. I like the perspective too!

[grateful]

Marking the spot; I'll be back. Thanks, Lynn!

[grateful]

I give up. I shouldn't have read Betty's story before studying the picture. Her story is simply the truth, and it can't be improved upon. Well, maybe it can, but not by me. Good job, Betty!

[lynnmosher]

Aw, too bad! Think of it from another angle. I haven't had time to do this one.

[grateful]

Shoot me! Would somebody please just kill me? Where’s street violence when you really need it?

Giving me a razor and telling me to shave was supposed to improve my self-esteem, I’ll bet. But they still kicked me out. Of the Rescue Mission! Who gets kicked out of the Rescue Mission? They shoulda thanked me instead. Stupid holy rollers really believed those bums got “saved.” I told them they were a bunch of liars. Just saying the words doesn’t get you saved. You have to believe in your heart. Even I know that much. They’re a bunch of stinkin’ liars, getting “saved” every week just so they can get a hot and a cot. They shoulda thanked me, I tell you! Instead they threw me out for being “disruptive.”

Sure, they gave me a sleeping bag and this goofy cap. Funny some old lady do-gooder didn’t knit “Loser” into the pattern of this cap. This sleeping bag doesn’t smell real fresh, either.

Liars. I know all about liars. “Love you, man,” they said as long as I could buy them their booze and smokes. Those girls, too. “Love you, sweetie,” they said, when I gave them jewelry and cars. What did they ever give me? Oh, yeah, that nasty little disease.

Dad warned me. Told me to be careful. But I figured, what did he know? Just working the farm since he was my age. Why should I wait until he died to have my inheritance? By that time I’d be as old as he is now and what would I need it for then? Dad sure doesn’t have much of a life, especially now with Mom gone.

Of course he has Daniel. The “perfect” son who stayed home. What a plugger. He’s probably married to some dumb female now and has a litter of kids. Little rug rats that crawl up on your lap and get you all sticky with candy and stuff. Funny how little kids can get so dirty and still smell like sunshine…

Daniel never could play chess, though—just didn’t have the hang of it like I do. Wonder who Dad plays with since I left?

I wonder if that rack in the haymow is still there? It sure would be better than sitting here on this cold cement. Maybe if I mucked out after the milking Dad would let me bunk out there. There’s always a cat or two to keep the mice down. I remember how Lester, the old tabby cat would sleep on my chest, his big warm body rumbling as he purred…

Oh-oh. Here come the cops. Making a street sweep in the middle of the day. Must be a slow day in the crime biz. Well, at least I’ll have a dry jail cell to sleep in tonight. Wait. I recognize that voice…

“That’s all right, Officer. I’ve got it. I’ll take care of him.”

“Come on, son. Time to go home.”

[demioyin]

Loved that, Grateful.

Something's stirring too now. I'll try to put it together.

[lynnmosher]

Ooo...a great modern-day take on the prodigal son! Cool! Hope he made it home! I'm so sorry, Elaine that it's taken me so long to get here. Great job! !thumbsup!

[grateful]

Okay, I can relax now. I couldn't before I got your approval.

THANK YOU! I hope you're feeling better.

[lynnmosher]

LOL! You're such a hoot! I'm some better, thanks!

[grateful]

Please do a photo prompt again soon, Lynn. I know you don't get much response, but I love them. I've posted them on my blog, and received a lot of comments. Email comments, that is. I think others must find it as difficult to comment on a blog as I do.

So thanks for doing them, and I look forward to another when you start feeling better. You have fibromyalgia, right? Does the weather affect that? It's hot and humid here now, and nobody feels great, but I'm thankful I don't have to deal with fibro on top of the general malaise of this weather.

[lynnmosher]

You're so sweet to ask. Yes, I have fibro and the weather does bother me...the rain, humidity, barometric pressure, etc. Winter is best even though the cold makes me ache. But if I wear layers, I'm fine.

I may have another photo. I'll check and see what pops out at me.

Blessings...

[Laina]

Nice job, Grateful. Maybe I'll try my hand at this one.

I've missed the Word Prompts on here. Rebecca was going to put a click for Word Prompts on the home page, but I don't see one there yet. Should I remind her? It's been awhile, but I don't want to bug her either.

[lynnmosher]

I was thinking the same thing, Laina. I'll see what I can find out.

[Keith Wallis]

Legs, now there's a perspective for you.
I've seen 'em all
bandy ones, sociable ones
some you could drive a truck through,
shapely ones, missmatched ones.
Bare ones, stripey socked ones,
hairy ones.
And shoes, expert on shoes me -
I've seen 'em all
shiney boots, cowboy boots,
high heels and flat
black and brown and red and blue
scuffed and dirty.
Laced or slip-ons.
Even seen a guy wearing one brown and one black.
But no-one sees ME.

[revbill]

I don't understand. Why am I here. Lord? It's been over a year now since I lost my job and they foreclosed on our beautiful home. It has been a really hard time, especially the day the Sheriff came out and put all our furniture in the front yard. Why am I here?

At least Mary and the kids are okay. They went home to her folks and I thought I could stay there too, but Paul said that if I couldn't support his daughter He wasn't going to support me. Said I was a worthless bum and he didn't want me in his house so here I am. He asked me where my God was now.

Have I done something wrong? Is this punishment? Are you angry with me, God? Help me understand what is going on. I got here too late last night to get a place inside. At least the cop didn't roust me last night, but he did say I would have to find some other place to sleep. Maybe I'll have to go down under the freeway overpass tonight.

"Hey; get up and get out of here." Uh-oh, the cops are back. "Okay, officer, I'll be on my way. Do you know anybody who is hiring? I'll wash dishes, sweep floors, anything at all to put my life back together?"

"Well, you don't look like the run of the mill bum we normally see down here." I told him my story and he really listened. "Why don't you go over to the church, talk to Pastor Joe. Tell him David sent you and ask if he might know of something you might do. They've got a school over there. Maybe they can find something for you to do."

"Which one," I replied. "Oh... sorry, it's the one over on Walker street, The one with all those portable classroom buildings right behind the cemetery."

"Hey, thanks. I'll try that. God bless you and thanks again."

That photo was 6 months ago. My wife took it when she came by that next morning. Mary and the kids are back. We found a little place owned by one of the members of Davids church that needed some work done so he let us have it rent free if we would do the work. I found a job at the local auto parts house.

But the best part is Mary's dad came to church with us a couple of times and
now he knows where my God was six months ago. As a matter of fact, now I know the answers to the first questions I asked myself the morning the photo was taken. Paul has accepted Christ. Isn't God amazing? I remember the verse from Jeremiah 29 verse 11-12 "For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, the thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon Me and and pray to Me, and I will listen to you. 1 John 4:14-15 "Now this is the confidence we have in Him, that if we ask anything according to His will, He hears us. And if we know He hears us, whatever we ask, we know the petitions that we have asked of Him.

[lynnmosher]

Oh, Keith, I love the way your mind works! Loved that!

Revbill, will be back to read yours! Am trying to write right now!

[grateful]

Well, phooie. I thought mine was pretty good, and then ol' Keith & Rev Bill show me up. Yeah, yeah, I know: pride goeth before the fall. Sigh...

[mine]

Alone, Invisible.
How was it possible to feel so lonely in the large chaotic mass?
Unnoticed wretch.
If only He could see... beyond the noise and the bustle.
An unseen world. A war being waged for His very soul.
The soft touch of winged angelic host, beckoning with gentle persuasions.
Angels, swords drawn standing guard round about protecting His very existence.
If only He could hear... the cries of the saints interceding in faith, persevering voices lifting high above the noise filled streets.
Waterfalls of continual prayers resounding, flooding the throne room of heaven, holding back the barrage of demonic host circling, waiting, watching for the opportunity to take His very soul.

Alone, Kneeling, faith rising, sustaining.
Trusting, expecting, believing beyond what she cannot see or hear...

HIS MOTHER

[grateful]

O I love this. Well done, Mine.

[mine]

Thank you grateful.

[rlspark]

People-watching…a favorite pastime of mine. Today, however, I decided to turn the tables a bit. So, I plopped myself down, camp-out style, right in the middle of this busy sidewalk and watched people watch me. What an interesting day it turned out to be.

Many people glanced at me before they got close enough to realize I was watching them. As they got closer, they looked away, apparently wanting me to think they didn’t notice me as they stepped over my legs, or just wanting to make sure that I didn’t engage them in any way. Still others crossed the street to avoid even accidental contact with me.

It didn’t seem to matter their station in life, they just didn’t want to get involved, so I just watched. There was the businessman in a three-piece suit who pushed his glasses up on his nose and turned to talk to his associate. One woman, obviously in a hurry, with two small children in tow, almost ran past me, but not before pulling the tots closer to her.

There was the teenaged punker, with his spiked, purple hair, who almost stepped on me, then sneered and yelled an obscenity at me. Oh, of course, there were the teenaged girls who snickered and began to whisper after they passed, if they waited that long.

I watch as a dirty man in ragged clothing, presumably homeless, moved slowly toward me. Surely, I thought, this man will be different, and at least show some curiosity as to why I’m here. I guess not; even he snubbed me after some obvious contempt. Perhaps he didn't think I really fit in with my clean sleeping bag and clothes. I had to wonder how he would have reacted to me, if my appearance were more like his.

In four hours of sitting here, not one single person stopped to see if I was okay, or if I needed help. Just as I was about to leave, a young boy, around eight years old, walked past. He was carrying a book, possibly walking home from school. I thought it odd, that a boy so young, in this day and age, would be walking alone on a busy street. I had decided that I would talk to him, but to my surprise, he stopped right in front of me. He looked at me for a few seconds, trying size up my situation in the best way his inexperienced mind could. Then he started with a barrage of questions, as only an eight-year-old can. Why are you here? Why do you have a sleeping bag? Are you camping out? Did you eat lunch? Are you having fun? Do you need a friend?

[grateful]

I like that one, too, rlspark! Evidently you noticed, as I did, the lad seemed too clean-shaven to be homeless.

[rlspark]

Thanks. Yes, that was my observation.

[Radical Poet]

Never thought I'd be here
Livin' on the street
Sleeping on a sidewalk
Sweatin' in the heat
Many things now master
How you spend your days
Finding food and shelter
From the cold and rain
Pride once held me captive
In my former life
But when you sink to hell, man
- It's the first that dies
Hope soon follows pride
And self esteem goes too
When you start to see yourself
The way that others do
Where is real compassion?
Where is love and peace?
Sleeping in a box
And Oh, - the things you'll eat!
Never saw it comin'
Can't believe it still
But one thing is certain
- The dead lie awful still.

[BettyJ]

Loved your poem, Keith and also Mine: been there; my son was on the street once. Those were desperate days. I really like the poetry and the pov's here! Thought-provoking pic, Lynn!

[mine]

Thank you BettyJ

I hope those days are far behind now, and your son is where He needs to be.
This writing was a bit personal on part also.
Blessings

[servant4him]

Invisible might be a far fetched dream for the military but my in my world it's reality. My back hurts more than when I played football in Jr High. The amount of sleep I get in three days due to sirens, gangsters, local all night club hopping drunks, and street chatter might equal one goods nights rest if that. No I don't want your change or your self- pity.

Most people wouldn't risk public humiliation without a high price. My price is blood. Vengeance doesn't come easy or cheap. I can't feel my legs and I haven't walked more than ten feet for two weeks. Cops come with their superficial label to protect and to serve stamped on the side of their cruiser like a creed or mission statement. HA they don't see me as needing to be protected because this outer appearance gives the illusion that I am an unemployed street bum leeching society for handouts. They have no idea what lengths one has to go to for true justice to be obtained.

Truth be told I am on the side of the police even if they don't see it that way. A child went missing and cops gave up looking. There’s justice for you. I heard the mother crying out to the boys in blue and basically they told her if they had any leads they would call her. Yeah right. Well I heard the cops say they found her shoe in the alley behind me and the perp is probably long gone. I also found a shoe lace that the cops over looked, outside the building across the street.

I'm nobody. The mother didn't hire me but justice will be done. I've narrowed it down to three possible men in the building across the street. The suit and tie guy, the cranky fat man, and the night owl. I am Invisible because if the world sees me then it has to care or do something about me. Tonight I'm going to sneak into three rooms. I'm betting my life I find the little girl that seems to have vanished in thin air. I'm nobody, but to three men I'm about to be a nightmare that they can't wake up from.

[melw]

The Man
359 words

The man sat watching the people walk past. I recognised him from the my youth group. I sat down beside him with my own sleeping bag. He smiled slightly.

“Did you know my brother was on the streets for a while?” He said after a few moments.

“Really? Where is he now?” I asked, I knew he came from a wealthy background.

“He died. I feel doing this sleep out might help someone out. Help some family not to go through the anguish my family did.”

“I’m sorry. I’m Cara, do you want a cup of hot chocolate?”

“I’m Michael, and thanks. I was glad Pr Mark organised this. I used to do it when I was a lot younger, but didn’t really understand it until Luke died.”

“Were you close?”

“He was my twin. He just got into the wrong crowd. When he started in hard drugs, mum and dad threw him out. I guess they wanted to protect me and Kyle.”

I had no idea this was in his past. How well did you ever know anyone if you didn’t ask? Had I had walked past his brother in the past? A passage of scripture came to me. “Do it to the least of these you do it to me.”

I prayed and said “God, please let this small act of sleeping out for one night be doing it for you. I will never pass a homeless person without trying to help.”

Michael leaned back. “At least we have a warm sleeping bags and hot chocolate. Luke would be glad I care. I still loved him, even though he was in trouble. I just hope he knew that.”

“I’m sure he did. I am going to help out with the soup kitchen in the city like I had been asked to. I never realised how cold it could get out here.”

“Thanks for coming and supporting the sleep out, and coming to talk to me.”

Why would he thank me? I walked over to talk to my friends and looked back at Michael. He had gone. I looked around. Then said “God was that you?”

MEL

[melw]

I am glad i wrote mine before reading the others. I havne't done one in so long, so thanks

MEL

[grateful]

I'm glad I didn't read yours before I wrote mine!

[Daniel]

These have really been good. I can sympathize with the first two stories. I had the chance to spend about a week and a half in Chicago at the mission, and oh boy, you two hit it on the head on how they do think about things. Very good.