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His (standard:drama, 3407 words)
Author: J. ThaliaAdded: Jun 19 2002Views/Reads: 1968/1296Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Wes is a rich man who ever since he inherited a fortune, has been though as the rudest person to ever live. Sam is a poor man who lives in a shelter and even though he starves, he gives his food away. Wes has the world in his hands until he runs into Sam.
 



His J. Thalia 

“Merry Christmas.” She hands him a bag of food. In a shelter full of
people, she only gives the food to him. 

“Th-this is for me? Really?” the middle-aged man reaches a blistered,
frostbitten hand, hidden beneath a black wool glove. He grabs the 
plastic bag and looks in it, then looks up at the teenage youth group 
member. He smiles, a yellowed smile, missing his 4 front teeth and some 
molars. “Thank you! Thank you!” the man graciously gives the girl a 
hug. She breaks it quickly...thinking the man hasn't showered in weeks. 


With a look of disgust, the girl runs back to the church ban, wipes off
her clothing, opens the door, and then gets in just as they pull away. 
Gone as fast as she came. 

The homeless man rummages through the plastic sac the girl gave him. He
finds snack foods galore. Starving, the man reaches in the bag for the 
sandwich. In that same moment, he sees a little girl, dirty and in old 
clothes sitting on a bench. Alone, she sits there, hungrily crying. The 
man, not having eaten in a month, replaces the sandwich where it was in 
the bag, and gets up. He walks over to the girl. Looking up, she 
exposes her red eyes, and her dirty face. 

“Here,” he holds it out to her. “You look hungry.” Really, on the
inside, he's dying of hunger. 

“Why are you giving this to me?” 

“I told you, you look hungry.” 

“You're going to give me your meal, because I look hungry?” 

“I wouldn't be standing here if I weren't going to, now would I?” he
drops the bag in her lap. 

“That's the nicest thing someone's ever done for me! How can I repay
you?” she says grinning. 

“Your smile is payment enough.” 

Walking outside, for some air, he notices something on the sidewalk. A
small brown, worn out piece of folded leather rests itself on a crack 
in the concrete. He picks it up, it's a wallet! No IDs, no credit 
cards, only 25 dollars. 

“Only! $25 could get me pretty far!” he thinks to himself. “You know,
I've always wanted to try coffee. I would enjoy something new, but I 
don't want to use all of my newly acquired money, someone else might be 
able to use it more than I could. Anyhow, there's a coffee place across 
the street.” In his mind's eye, he imagines the beauty of the black 
coffee. He imagines himself turn into a new man with this potent 
elixir. 

He crosses the street. 

As he's about to open the door to walk in, a man comes out of no where,
shoves him out of the way and walks in...without saying a word. 

“Poor guy! He must be having a bad day!” The homeless man says to
himself, looking down, he eyes the fact that the man dropped his keys 
as he shoved his way inside. 

He brushes himself off, and walks in again. He can tell the other
precarious man cut in line, the long, long line, and he's towards the 
front. The itinerant man goes through the scuttlebutt of the small 
coffee shop to reach the man who is now seconds away from getting 
served. 

“Uh,” he hands out the man's keys. “I believe these are yours.” 

“EEEWWW! When was the last time you showered? Give me my keys!” the man
snatches his keys. “You didn't dirty ‘em up too bad...why are you still 
here? Go away filthy!” 


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