He knew everybody had a story to tell , but what irked him most was their ability to unload on him. He really didnt care. His life was sustainable, no more, no less.
A bag lady appeared out of an alley, quietly ’ whispering to the angels’.
Her matted hair and stooped posture fitted perfectly with the down-at-heel strap overs and battered shopping cart. A large one eyed Tabby was curled prevocatively on her cart. Its remaining eye watchful at him.
Drawing level with her now, her conversation was audible. Certain words like “baby”, “beautiful” and “daughter” drifted to him along with a sickening stench. It was overpowering and seemingly clung to his nostrils.
She stopped and reached into the cart. Producing an alfoil package, it was unwound revealing a seven month old human fetus in a decomposed state.
“Darling daughter”, she cooed.
He retched and ran with head spinning.
I think to remove ourselves from society goes further than ignoring the plight of others.
Life has a way of seeping under the door…………….