Creative Writing: The Homeless Man

The forest had gone.... and the Witch looked much younger. Audette opened her eyes and had found herself upon a brow of white lilies. The shape of the shrouded old woman seemed changed. Having turned around, and opened her mantle to the tearing gusts, Meliza revealed to the young lady two streams of shinging blackness and smooth white flesh. Audette stopped in her tracks.

As I walked down the busy downtown street, brimming with life full of vigor, I came across one of the darker aspects of the busy roads-Homeless people, the same very people ignored by hundreds of well-off citizens everyday, frowned upon by numerous others, and simply left on the streets to starve. As I watched the doomed citizens of our society starve upon our very own streets, I had a sudden impulse. What would it feel to be homeless, to receive the scorn of others due to your social standing. On that account, I ran back to my house and wore the most tattered clothes I could find, and sat on a grubby pathway, pretending to be one of the unfortunate. At first I was excited to finally jump out of my comfortable shell and experience the harsh

help but wonder why he is on house arrest. I don’t think much about it, he probably did something harmless, like lighting up in a park. He feeds my dog and waves to me when I get home everyday, but I’m not gonna lie, I do keep my space. Today is different though, I had a really great day, and already in a friendly mood, so when I got home and I saw Mr.Flufferson with him in his front steps I didn’t hesitate to come and grab him. “Hi” “hey” I said. “He was pretty hungry” “thanks for feeding him” I said. It’s nice to see him engaging with me, I love interacting with my neighbors. He asked me to come in for tea, and I mean why not. His house is quaint. It doesn’t look like he’s hosted anyone in years.

It was a bright and sunny day in Downtown Iowa City. I limped my sore, broken down body between the alleys, craving the shade of buildings to get some time out of the beating hot sun. I can sense the wondering eyes of many people immediately lock into mine as I walk onto the busy sidewalk. I get paranoid and overwhelmed thinking of everything people could potentially be thinking about me. I have never been the type to care of what others think of me. That is only until I made my ways to becoming homeless. ¨You are just a druggie who can’t keep a job,¨ many have shouted at me. Funny thing is they don’t know is why I am even here in the first place. I ran away when I was 16. My Dad abused my Mom, two little sisters and Me. I’ve been

The time span this book occurred in is from July 2006 to April 2007 in Charleston, South Carolina. Portraying as a homeless man, Shepard starts off in Crisis Ministries, a homeless shelter that would have “the resources necessary to get him [me] back on his [my] feet,” (Chapter 1, page 9) which was a great kick-starter for his project. Shepard would move into an attic of one of his boss's, George, friend, Mickey, because it was the “best all-around deal that he [I] was going to find,” (Chapter 11, page 137) and because he wanted to leave Crisis Ministries, due to Shepard accepting that the Crisis Ministries was unacceptable to consider to stay in. Afterward, Shepard bought an apartment with his co-worker, Derrick's, cousin, Bubble Gum,

One situation that I remember was when I personally saw a man, sweating and walking around in the heat, had passed my family and I will we were pulling out of our driveway. The man was obviously thirsty so as he was walking away I yelled for him to come over and I had given him to cold water bottles that were mine. He also said if I had any food and I actually had a small load of bread that I was eating, so I gave it to him. I told him that I was sorry I had nothing else to eat, but he humbly said thank you either a big smile on his face.

Hey little cousin I hope you didn’t do anything wrong because one time I did something wrong but it’s a long story. I guess I could tell you about it. One time I was trying to get a pair of new shoes but I didn’t have the money. So I saw a big lady in the distance. She had a pocketbook and I’m pretty sure it had money. Then I ran at her and tried to steal it but I fell in the process. She picked me up and grabbed me by the arm. I told her to let go and she asked will you run. I had to be honest so I said yes, so she did not let go. Then she looked at my face and said I was dirty and asked me if someone at home washes me. I said no since I was homeless.

A vast amount of studies have been conducted on homelessness in Canada and what the looks like in our society. How can we change this to become a mare successful ideas of help?The main topic that is going to try to be addressed is Homelessness and how help may be provided to those who are in need. The first thing that needs to be addressed is how displayed in the following articles and are they beneficial to our society. The ideas that the following article was written by Racine, G (2002) about the woman telling their experiences with help from society, while in poverty.Another source that is going to be dissected is an article written by Anucha, U (2010) addresses are going to address is it true that Homelessness is housed but not helped? The next article is written and will be examined is by Fallis G (2010) that is going to address to be on our current housing policy for those without a home. The next article is written by Walsh, C.Graham, J.Shier, M. (2009) and the main goal of that is what are the goals for a homeless shelter as a connective? One of the last articles I am going to be critically analyzing is an article written by Brushett, K Royal Military College of Canada, Kingston, Ontario (2007) is one the people will go with the cuts to the housing policy. The final article that is going to be dissected written by Paul Morden; A story about College students holding a sleep out challenge held to spread awareness. The main

When I was younger my family would often visit Laredo, Texas, where we owned a ranch backed up against the Rio Grande and the border to Mexico. Every time we went my dad would drive us through some of the poorest neighborhoods in the city. At the time Laredo was one of the top 15 most poverty-stricken districts in the United States. When we drove through those places I was curious, confused, and sometimes afraid. I was never as thankful as my father hoped I would be. Driving through Laredo it was common to see homeless people sleeping in the streets as well as asking for money on corners. It was nothing new to me. I knew the rules: roll up the windows and look straight ahead.

“The weather seems to be getting a bit chillier around here lately” Charlie Houser proclaims. “ Living homeless is not so bad as long as you understand that you are homeless and make it your every day life.” implies Charlie. Charlie is a man that goes around thinking of things to do from day to day.

Bright flashes of gold and white sparkled in my eyes followed by dozens of arrays of colors and sparks. The ooh’s and ah’s of thousands of nearby people mixed with the chorus of explosions as the grand finale of the show came to an end. The last firework burst into color, and the stadium lights buzzed back on in bright flash above, as people began to leave. The exhausted crowd filed slowly into the parking lot. I barely stayed on two feet as I followed my mom out of the stadium and crawled into my cousins van. I leaned back in my seat as the hum of traffic and the dark van slowly dragged me into a deep sleep.

After a few moments loitering outside, the figure did indeed push their way through the back alley door and into the museum. Leonora raised her eyebrows, impressed by the audacity of the act. The woman, dressed smartly, seemed to have no concerns about the security that the museum inevitably had; she walked through the rooms like she owned the place, which an ignorant bystander would undoubtedly assume that she did. Unfortunately for her, Lea had worked in the museum for several months now, and was familiar with who did and didn’t work there. This woman was clearly a stranger.

My friends often describe me as a cynic and a pessimist. For the most part, they're right. Sentiment loses value when it permeates one's attitudes and behavior just as the value of a commodity decreases as it becomes ubiquitous, so as a rule I reserve expressing sentiment for rare occasions that I deem worthy. Fortunately, even the harshest cynics are surprised sometimes.

The homeless stand down was an eye-opener experience for me. I had the opportunity to interact with several individuals, and one family. Initially I conducted some interviews with them to help complete the questionnaire; and the remainder of the time, I escorted the individuals and helped them choose items that were necessary for them. As I talked to each of them, I realized that the present state of these individuals were a product of the current economic situations. According to the National Homeless Coalition (2009), work factors are one of the many reasons why individuals are homeless. One of the individuals that I spoke to informed me that he was working a regular nine to five job at a construction site, but now due to the

I hear them get closer and closer as the porch creaks every step to the door. My heart feels like its pounding through my chest, and sweat is pouring off my face as I sprint in a panic. I hear the key turning and the door opening just as I jump out the window.