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.
