King of Nothing

Now

I must be temporarily an insomniac, because I got no sleep last night. I kept tossing and turning, I couldn't get my mind off of what the doctor said to me. My punishment won't be long enough! It's not freaking fair. 

Now I managed to stuff my face with the dry bagels and pasty milk. I am grateful for the splendid food they give me. Most often I ams stuck scrounging for food in garbages or taking the three day left overs the chefs can't bother to throw into the garbage, which is usually right beside their second rate restaurant. 

"Thanks again, for letting me stay here. You know, after...after all the violent things I did to your physility's doctor." I try to sound polite, even though I am naturally quite a rude person. I bet all the workers here think I am some egotistical, depressed, homicidal maniac after my attitude and the things I have done. 

"No worries Mr Maverick. He has already forgiven you. He says you were just in a state of shock after the tragic news, and you had every right to take out your anger on what was closest to you. You're dying Noah and there is nothing you can do about it." The receptionist sat on the desk busily typing into her computer. I didn't mean to start talking to her, but her smile just made me so welcome to share each and every one of my thoughts. 

"Oh no," What she said comes crashing down on me all at once. "I am dying, there is nothing I can do about it. I've been a very bad man, Miss. What do I do? I can't die with all these bad things nesting in my concious." 

"I suggest you go and make ends meet. Stop moping around and try to apologize. And don't just say, 'Oh hey I'm sorry.' The key to this is that you have to give them a reason to forgive you." She looks up from her computer and flashes her white pearls for teeth. There's that smile I was talking about. 

"Okay I'll try," I'll fail. "Hopefully they'll forgive me," I am one hundred percent sure they won't. "Thanks for the advice," even though I have damaged my relationships too far for it to help. 

"Not a problem, sweetie. Whenever you have a something that is troubling your mind. Call...this number and someone will always be there to help you work whatever is the issue out." She smiles once again and I thank her for everything, and then I am off. 

I walk along the streets, looking like a lost, lonely soul. Everyone turns their heads as I walk by. I would too if I was them. Cuts line my arms and hands and I wear tattered brown clothing all over. I have a parka on which I took from one of those charity bins and it is three sizes too big, but hey, it works as an excellent blanket while sleeping. My skin is red and dry, callused and rough. I am not a pretty sight. Plus these days society isn't to welcome with homeless people. What they don't understand is that not all of us threw our money away on alcohol and drugs. 

The homeless shelter gave me a five dollar bill to use for whatever I want. Oh what shall I invest this five dollars in to...

Then I see her. Well, not exactly her, but like a look-alike or a doppleganger. Who knows. 

As soon as I see her I know I have to go into the diner and get a better look. I just miss her so much. I take the bill out of my pocket and muster up as much confidence as I can, and then I walk into the diner.

Hopefully they give service to hobos.