Booted from home for flunking and drinking. A blot on the family. Nobody understood the pain, bullying, exclusion.
Now, unwelcome everywhere, a blot on the city. Huddled in a buttonless wool coat, jackpot of a dumpster dive, I warm myself by trashcan fires. I’m accepted here. It’s enough.
A garbage truck struck Roland, our firekeeper. We hollered, but got a lungful of diesel fumes.
Roland was dead. Hauled away, like refuse.
Moonless night, quiet bridge, river cold and swift. Whatever’s below has to be better. Hell, I’m already at the bottom.
No one will know I’m gone.