Feeling like shit, with cars strung out on the roads,

The planet’s organisms going to an avoidable hell,

The drunk and drugged street man asked me for money.

Like I said, I felt like shit.

I shook him off.

I looked back; he was sitting in front of the convenience store.

I finished my coffee refill, and walked back to him.

“Want coffee?”


“What in it?”

“Cream and sugar.”

I go back to the store, and order his coffee, taking advantage of my senior discount.

He’s no senior, but the years have wasted him until he could be.

I hand him the coffee.

His dirt-crusted fingers brush mine as he takes the cup and thanks me.

He’s moved from the convenience store to the laundry, where he sits on a curb.

He starts on the coffee.

I feel less like shit.

I plan to write my Food Bank check – soon ….

Author: Gene Novogrodsky

Eugene “Gene” Novogrodsky, a Brownsville resident for nearly three decades, writes North American border slices, from eastern Canada to central Mexico, and in between. He is one of the founders of the Narciso Martinez Cultural Arts Center Writers Forum in San Benito. He sometimes participates with the informal Resaca Writers Group in Brownsville. He prefers, however, to read to two or three attentive listeners – when asked!


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