Hunger

The hunger gnawed at his guts. He hugged himself against it as much as the cold. Icicles from the gray sky exploded against the sidewalk. He huddled closer into the doorway. The emptiness in his stomach was a cold pit, worse than any rainy fall day, more desperate.

He had a half-eaten burger the day before. He’d taken it from the top of a city trashcan. He’d dug deeper for less. He couldn’t understand why people threw out so much food, so much waste.

The burger had been good. Juicy. But there was no cheese. How could they have a burger with no cheese?

He had money yesterday. Not a lot, but enough for something to eat. He remembered thinking about a burrito from one of the food trucks. It had made him salivate.

They’d cooked last night. There wasn’t much, but Genie had wanted to have a little something, and he couldn’t say no. They’d put their money together and bought what they could. It hadn’t amounted to more than a taste, but it had been delicious. It had warmed him.

But now he was cold and aching with want. He thought he should walk; maybe find a busier corner for his change cup or head to the Mission to see what they were serving for lunch. It was raining hard though, and lunch wouldn’t solve the problem of tonight’s dinner.

He knew Genie would come calling, looking for him to help put something together for them. She was so beautiful. He couldn’t let her down. She needed him. He needed her.

The ground was cold beneath him. He’d put down a piece of cardboard, but it had been soaked in the night. He shivered against the morning cold.

He should get up; find some money. He was hungry.

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Suffocating

Zoe curled in close to Jim. She had this way of contorting her body so it appeared they were one person. He used to enjoy it, but now it stank of desperation.  Her head was buried in his neck, so she couldn’t see the look of disgust on his face.

Jim had a list of things he still needed to do, and it was already late afternoon. As much as he understood they might need moments like this to rebuild what they had, it felt like these moments had been happening all too often over the past two years.

Zoe had this need to lie around and feel his touch to feel secure. It had been all right at first, but it had begun to infringe on the accomplishment of household tasks and then bigger goals. He’d already lain with her for an extra half hour this morning.

In their current entanglement, Jim’s arms were pinned to his sides, and Zoe’s slight frame sat heavy on his chest and stomach, making each breath a strain. He squirmed as it became harder to breathe. Zoe tightened her hold.

Panic came into his mind, coupled with his frustration at not being able to get to his remaining chores. His breathing was short and desperate. He thought to throw Zoe off, but knew that wasn’t the answer. He didn’t want to upset her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

“No, I can tell something is wrong with you. Tell me.”

“No, don’t worry about it,” he gasped.

“Jim, you have to talk to me. We’ve talked about how we need to improve our communication. I don’t want to sound harsh, but we both know you’re the one with the most work to do. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“You’re suffocating me.”

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The Storm

A burst of lighting was followed by thunder that shook the air and rattled the glasses on the countertop. A thick gray blanket now covered the high blue sky. The water moved in sheets across the cove, coming towards the small cottage. When it arrived, it slammed against the thin windows and rattled the roof.

The children huddled around the wood stove, seeking the safety of its warmth. The gave yips of restrained fear as another flash of lightning cut through the room and the lights went out. When the crack of thunder crashed against their eardrums they started to cry. Then the wind howled and the branches of the trees scratched against the windows, trying to get in.

Their parents tried to calm them with soft words and gentle caresses, but even they felt the wrath of Nature as the white-capped waves battered the rocks below the cottage. They looked out entranced and afraid.

In time the sky began to grow light, and the family felt relief just as another flash brought a burst that shook the foundation of the cottage. They were in the storm’s eye.

The rain exploded on the roof top and the branches battered the windows. The wind howled in mourning, sending shivers up their spines. Father put another log on the fire and they huddled closer to its warmth, backs to the madness of the outside world.

It was over in an instant. The thunder became a distant rumble as the wind and rain died down. Drops of water fell in intermittent patterns from branches returned to stiff attention.

They stepped outside to a blue sky. The damp heaviness of the air gone with the gray blanket, allowing them all to breathe in relief, and laugh at how foolish it was to feel fear.

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