He lay on the cot of the Ames Shelter House and closed his eyes.
That summer’s ramble had been the last. He’d known it then and the doc had confirmed it, told him he was lucky to have lasted as long as he had.
That afternoon he’d given his bindle to a young man who’d come in asking for a blanket, given him all he’d need for surviving the streets, tools that it had taken years to acquire.
The empty locker felt like a wound, but he could lie here warm with eyes closed and travel it all over again.
It seem he loved his life, contrary to what most of us would feel. For him, this is a happy ending.
Great story. I could feel him.
Wonderful story…painted in vivid images of a tired but content soul.
Sometimes passing on the tools for others to take the ride is the right thing, and now he can ride the trains forever in his mind …
Time to pass it on and settle down.
Nicely done …
Isadora ?
Powerful,