The smell of effluent and refuse waft up making me crinkle my nose. At least I don’t gag any more. The house is awake as evidenced by the clanking of pots and rumble of the flush. Discordant strains of guitar blend with the brawl of a little child. Well, sleeping was definitely out of the picture now. Might as well get up before the hot water runs out.

I go wait by the toilet. Miguel steps out. “Hey man! I hear they are hiring at Randy’s. I’m heading there. You coming?”

“Sure man,” I reply. “Just give me five.”

Randy’s was hard work, but the pay was fair, and he usually threw in lunch. Better get there before word spreads. I relieve myself, wash off last evening’s grime, and hop into my only pair of not-torn jeans.

The baby is still crying. “What’s up Sal? Did you take her to the clinic?” I ask.

“They gives me a refill for her inhaler. They asking me to move to dry housing. Where I go with no money?”

I nod my head. There is nothing that I can do for her. No words of comfort that I can offer. And I got to get to Randy’s.


In response to the Sunday Photo Fiction challenge of 10th September based on a photo by A Mixed Bag 2013

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15 thoughts on “Another morning

    1. Thank you. The condition of low income group housing is usually quite bad and unsanitary, leading in turn to high infant mortality, anemia, etc. Things have improved, but we still have a long way to go..

      Liked by 2 people

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