"Norsten hosen vashkul" said the homeless man, in some sort of unintelligible language that seemed to make a lot of sense to only himself.
The man standing beside him, in a bowler's hat, began to think of what it meant to him. He wondered what this man was trying to accomplish. Initiate a conversation? Make a statement? Argue about something? Sliding down the wall next to the figure curled under a blanket, Bowler Hat began to ponder his own life. What it really meant to him. He thought of the important things, the things he possessed. And then he tried to juxtapose himself with the homeless man. He tried to put himself in this man’s shoes. Except the homeless man didn’t have any shoes.
Next to the blanket was a shopping cart full of cans, a winter coat, and a guitar case. This was the poor man’s wealth: the ability to play the guitar, and to push a shopping cart through the windy streets of Chicago. He imagined sitting on the sidewalk on some non-important street, plucking away at the strings, perhaps creating the next number 1 single that no one would ever listen to. Possibly making a quarter for a beautiful melody, or if he was lucky, a dollar. George Washington’s wooden teeth smiling all the way back at him for the work he put into that hard-earned dollar.
He thought of this man's journey to the recycling factory. After spending the nights wandering the streets rummaging for cans, he finally filled his shopping cart, stolen from the supermarket down on 6th and Central. He made the journey down to 118th street, and pushed each can into the machine for a hard earned dime. Three hundred Eisenhowers filled his pockets, creating the wondrous sound of hundreds of pieces of metal striking each other. The *clink clink clink* was a song more meaningful to him than any song he wrote on his guitar.
And finally he turned his thoughts to the winter coat. This huge burden that this man had to carry around for 8 months out of the year, to use so he wouldn’t freeze to death in the colder days of the year. And then he realized, this was how this poor man kept time. The weather was the tell-tale sign of what month it was. Burning August, or windy October? He seemed so primitive, yet so advanced. Realizing the rain that was beginning to fall, he pulled the blanket over the unshaved face of the homeless man, protecting both of them from the torrential drizzling. It suddenly occurred to him that even he didn’t know what month it was, and he began wonder where his winter coat was, and whether it was still hanging in the closet in his seemingly far away apartment.
He realized that this putrid man had two loves, music and warmth. The other happenings in life didn’t seem to be of any importance; the news, sports, even women or alcohol. Apparently cleanliness didn’t matter either, considering the smell emanating from this man. But these two loves did, in the life that existed in his shopping cart, and his blanket, on the sidewalk in front of the First National Bank.
“Excuse me? What did you say?” said the man with the bowler hat.
“I could use a bath, some whiskey, and a condom” replied the homeless man.
Was the man in the bowler hat wrong? Was this other man exactly like him, when it did not seem like it all?
And so they went home together.
Author notes
Eh. I thought of the line "I could use a bath, some whiskey and a condom", and it took off from there.
Written January 20th, 2005
A contest entry
- Love Bites (21 & Older ONLY) by Judas Denied.
300 points, ended January 31, 2005, 2 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 10 of 10
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good
nice thingie lol i really enjoyed it. keep writing -
“Excuse me? What did you say?” said the man with the bowler hat.
“I could use a bath, some whiskey, and a condom” replied the homeless man.
*LOL* That line had me laughing for quite some time... Great story. Very entertaining!! -
Great short story
Your story is very honest & original. Like a silver penny.
It takes practice & a lot of patience to reach acceptable grammar. Neverthetheless, it seems that you put enough thought & wit into your story. I'm sure that if you keep writing your stories will eventually be flawless. Life in shopping cart reminds me of a film called Lovers on the Bridge, Amants du Pont-Neuf. About a homeless man who falls in love with a woman who drops out of society.
Great story Orbarn!
Edited on Feb 03, 2:39 p.m. because ''. -
Wow, that was bizarre. I liked it very much, though it seems like, at the end, he took the bum home to get him drunk, shower him, and use the condom. I hope that isn't the case, haha. Great write.
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i love it, beautiful in a strange honest sort of way. leave it just the way it is, don't change a thing.
~Kate -
Actually, in the beginning i was trying to make the pronouns clearer, but as the story developed, i realized what i trying to do, and started to make them blend, make it unclear. If you think that subtracts from the story, i can go back and change it..
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I enjoyed the sense of teasing out the details of this man, yet, if I had to give one suggestion - I would ask that your uses of 'he' be clearer. At times I found myself having to assume which he you meant, almost wondering if you weren't eventually have them become a single person looking at himself in different stages of his life.
I am enjoying reading through your different works and look forward to working with you in class.
Jane -
wow, that was really....interesting.i loved the second line the hobo said:
“I could use a bath, some whiskey, and a condom” replied the homeless man.
that was pretty funny, in a weird sorta way.
Vicky^_^ -
LOL .. love the matter-of-factness of the last sentence, as if, it is perfectly natural.
Definitely great trip into his thought process. Psychoanalysing each thing in the shopping cart .. trying to clue together a person from his things. I'm a little confused about the middle of the fourth paragraph: "I don't know if this was your intent, but the names for the streets are very good: 6th and Central sounds very businessy, commericial, downtown, unfriendly and void of culture/life. It was a minor detail in your paragraph but it achieved so much." If there was a reason for that aside, I didn't quite get it (though I agree with it). If it was meant to be there, though, you might want to put it in parentheses to separate it. It looks supiciously like the comment of a critiquer, or teacher, that you missed editting out, though.
I noticed a couple other minor typos, too:
In the second paragraph: "to juxtapose himself to the homeless man" -- I think you want "juxtapose himself with ..". Not certain, but think so. ? (laughed out loud at the ending of the paragraph )
Paragraph four: "He thought of this mans journey ..", the "mans" is possessive. Should be "man's". -
One finds love in the strangest of places. You did a great job of taking us through his thought processes. Guess he found a kindred spirit huh! Best of luck in the contest
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