Becoming Homeless Myself

Decent Essays

The green papers flew in the air as I swam threw the piles,cautious as to where to step, but at the same time enjoying myself. I swam to the other end in my bronze coloured, two thousand dollar swimsuit. Half way I was stopped, not by someone, but something. A paper cut. I grab the paper and rip it up in anger, losing one hundred dollars. I fetch Jameson and tell him to get me a Band-Aid. Putting on my shirt, my phone rang. I quickly finished buttoning and attached my golden Rolex watch, glancing at the screen. Unknown number, now who could that be? I tap my phone and the call has been started. “Hello?” I ask curiously. “Ah, yes this is Carson James, thirty years of age living in Toronto Ontario and of the Christian background.” Hmm, “Alright, good bye.” I hang up, cursing myself as I forget to give my address. Jameson comes up with the bandage and I peel the protective paper off and gently apply it to my cut. Right after I finish, I’m told there’s a package for me.Who could that be from? Surely not from the gentle man I was talking to before. I walk up to the box, whipping out my Swiss Army pocket knife. Gently cutting the tape, I open the box. Inside, were my custom shoes I ordered from Jordan. Cautiously removing the packaging I pick up my Jordan’s and put them into my shoe collection, five-hundred collectable sneakers all sitting there peacefully in their respectable places. I sit down tired. A

Get Access