The warm fog crept slowly out of the east side of the building, melting the cold off my pale body. I looked up from my blue hands into the night sky. Presented before me was the dance between the polluted air and the stars. They weren't quite dancing, but circling each other in a fight. Not fighting, but taunting, waiting for the other to make the first move. The sound of a cars horn startled me from my reverie and I quickly turned my head to find the orgin of this noise. I then see a man running confidently across the street toward the alley I was in. Cars were screeching to a halt in an effort to avoid hitting this man. He ran through "my" alley, only looking back once, wearing a smug grin on his scarred face. As he turned back to face the alley, he spotted me suddenly and stopped in surprise. "Hello," I said in a quiet stoic tone. He shook his head, as if I was just a figment of his imagination and continued to jog silently down the dark alley with a bag of money tightly gripped within his clutch. I was certain it was a bag of money because a one dollar bill flew out of the slightly opened bag when the man started to run once again. I watched him jog. He was slow, jostling himself with each step. I noticed he only wore socks, I could tell they had once been white, but had been dirtied and torn from improper use. Looking away from him, I layed my eyes on the dollar bill, now sitting still on the alley floor. I then pushed myself up from my resting place, which was a blanket and my backpack, and I stretched. Rubbing my neck, I winced in pain. Sleeping on the concrete, with your only support a thin and torn blanket, caused severe soreness and agonizing aches. I slowly stepped over to the opposite side of the alley and stood directly in front of the faded green dollar. I stared down at it. It sat in front of my exposed toes and my oversized men's flip flops. It taunted me to pick it up. I thought, "should I take this? It's just a dollar. It won't hurt anyone. But it's stolen. It wouldn't be right to take anything stolen, no matter the value or importance of the object..." I stopped myself from thinking. I knew I always over think everything, but I suppose that is what happens when you have no one to talk to but me, myself, and I. I squatted down to get closer to the dollar, and I picked it up as if it was mine. Now that I have taken this dollar into my possession, I have 16 dollars and 38 cents. I felt rich compared to the ones in debt and extremely poor compared to the billionaires. I went back to my book bag and stuck the dollar into the front pocket, along with the neatly folded ten and five dollar bill surrounded by an assortment of coins. I then stuffed my blanket into the larger pocket, too lazy to fold it like usual. As I was forcing it into the bottom of my book bag, I talked to it. "Thank you for being there for me throughout all these tough years. You're the only one that has stayed. Maybe not willingly, but I still love you," I murmered to it as if it was alive. I zipped up the book bag slowly and carefully, trying not to get my blanket caught in it. I then lowered myself onto the gravel, and stared at the wall across the alley.
