“You’ve got to help me out, Martha. They can’t survive much longer without you.”
The poor boy was desperate. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of bills. “Maybe tomorrow?”
She drummed her fingers on the handle of the shopping cart and considered his request.
“You’re the only thing that keeps them alive, Martha.”
She grabbed the bills and put them safely in her blouse pocket, underneath her coat and her sweater. She shoved off down the street and he yelled after her.
She waved without looking back. “I’ll be there!”
Josh watched the old lady make her way across the street to whatever hovel she was living in now. Her clothes were nothing but rags and her brain had to have been pickled in vodka long ago, but something kept her going—pride, stubbornness…he had no idea. He just knew he wanted to help the poor old broad stay alive since, for whatever reason, that’s what she wanted to do.
Martha was ecstatic. Now she would be able to buy some beer to have with her pizza! Pizza and beer—nothing like it. It reminded her of happy times long ago, with somebody, somewhere…but never mind that. Better not to wallow through hazy memories and come up with things that would only depress her. Tonight, it was pizza and beer and the sports pages. Yesterday didn’t matter and she didn’t have to think about tomorrow till it came.
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish