Monday's Fiction in 58

Time for a Fiction in 58.

A cold wind bounces a soda cup down the block, mostly empty but for the ones who live on the street.
No one notices the cup, or the couple, huddled invisible in a bus shelter.
She cries softly into a dirty sleeve as he pats her back rhythmically.
It’s not so much the homelessness, but the stigma attached.


Janet Jarrell said...

I saw this today - incredible when someone writes my own thoughts.