The Winter's Day.

[zoolane]

The Winter's Day.

On cold winter's day, the dawn break with subtle redded behind Canary Wharf. I have to survive other night
in the DLR Station. It must really freeze out even yobs left me alone. I begged enough last night for bottle of cider, which help with cold away and still got some for breakfast. I am going raid my favourite bin in park.
What luck I find a half eat bacon sandwich it warm slightly.

I will going to high street near Asda on the island. That best place this time of year and you always find people feel more guilt at Christmas time. I made ten pounds. I am off to local soup kitchen for a square meal even tramps deserve one. Today it must be Christmas day because on menu it tradition Christmas dinner with Christmas pudding or mince pies. The staff have invited people like me to stay for while. The local priest dress up like Santa again this year but this year I got gift. It thick hat,scarf and gloves set.

I am offer bed for night but I said ''no I am to long it tooth for it''. I have being in street doorways for 15 years now. Since I walk out on everything had include family. I was running from debts. Now its in bedding in me and I choose to live this life. I made lots friends some young, old, junkies and the mental ill. With my new hat and gloves I leave before my spot at station get taken. On the way I collect my cardboard blanket from the shops bin.

I purchase some Bells whiskey because the word is it going to be cold then last night. I snuggle into cupboard with blanket that kind lady give me on her way early. Sipping the whiskey to warm my cockles but the holes in my old boots are let warm flow out.

[hillwalker]

I think the image of the heat escaping through the holes in his boots is a good one.

There's a lot more you could do with this to develop the character's background I think - but it's an interesting read.

H

[zoolane]

The Beginning.

I am in my 40s and my life spiral out of control. I am current unemployed but my family think I am at work. I am not in meeting or at my desk.

The last week, I spent my days at the local soups kitchen in and round our capital city. Today I am at the Salvation Army one at Lime house next neighbour to police station. I hide the devastate truth from everyone at I am on verge of personal bankrupt. I have debts collectors agencies sent me a least dozen letters a week.

It that time again, were I have to pretent everything normal and going home.
As I walking down the road. With brown twigs sway with casual breeze and gold, orange leafs scattering across the street. I can see baffies removal van outside my house with wife and child outside obvious in tears.

I turn round, running away and hang my head in shame. I have loose change in my pocket so heading for near shop and buy bottle of whiskey. I take myself to Bow Flyover. I see some down and out people with soup kitchen. We gather round the steel bin with flame come out and keep warm.
The down and out are are great bunch even they are dirty and wear clothes with holes in. I found a spot beneath the bridge for night with my bottle.
The traffic soar above my head.

The next day. I approach the road were my family home is. My wife and child are out thank god. There nothing in front room expect sentimental things. The kitchen was left own but very gadget and electricity items had being remove. The beds had being left but that was it. I can stay here, know that I let down everyone and left with amount of debts.

I quick packed a bag and wrote note left on fridge ''SORRY'' was only word I could think of.

With my black Nike bag, I left the blossom of my house and family. That the end of road I turn and whisper ''goodbye life''.
The life I had built up over 20 or so years.

[hillwalker]

The detail in this second part of the story make the first part more believeable.
I like the term 'blossom of my house and family'.

H