A Blessed Man

Pink Canopy
A Blessed Man walked up to me
a ragged backpack slung over his left shoulder
a handrolled cigarette between his remaining eleven teeth
letting out pathetic wisps of smoke.
“Let me cut the bullshit,”
he said.
“There is a Peter Pan bus coming around in an hour
and I need to hook a ride.
You look like a good kid and I got $10 in my pocket
But I need 9 more to get where I’m heading.”
I refused the initial impulse
to ignore the Blessed Man,
maybe it was something he had said.
“All I got is change,” I replied.
Then reached deep in my pocket to give him what I would.
“Do you want the pennies?”

About subparcostar

This is a collection of pieces I've done throughout the years, and continue to do throughout the hours. The format of pieces varies fairly considerably, as I am a bit eclectic in my taste. All in all, it's just a bunch of fiction.
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