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My Life - Original Writing

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I yawn and arch my back in a big stretch. I could see my breath in the air. It would be getting colder from now on. I take a look around the small hut we call home.
Adam is still curled up on the old mattress, a bundle of blankets wrapped around him. Mom isn’t sleeping next to him, probably out tending the garden. It seems that’s all she’s been doing these past few months.
I stand up and walk over to Adam. He is sound asleep, a small amount of drool collecting on his chin. I smile at this and grab some of the blanket he is wrapped up in, and wipe it away.
I would love to lay back down, curl up next to him and go to sleep. The mattress is so much better than the pallet I sleep on across the room, but I can’t, there are things that need to…show more content…
Winters in the big city usually get pretty bad, and I’ve outgrown most of the small amount of clothes I have. In fact, I’ve worn the same shirt and pair of pants for easily over four weeks. I only have a few other clothes that still fit. Maybe it’s time for a change…
People here in the Hooverville, as everyone started to call this place after our President, Herbert Hoover, help each other out as best we can.
Miss Sheila lives a couple of “houses” away from us. She has two little boys, one eight year old, and one six year old. She is a kind, gentle woman who would never harm a fly, and never asks for anything. Sometimes I take Adam over there to play with the two boys.
I stand back up and stoop over to get into the house, Adam was still sleeping.
Most of the clothes I have are jumbled up in a box I keep by my pallet. I knelt down and began rummaging through the box.
The clothes were grimy, most had holes or rips in them from hard work and being worn for so long. The majority of them even had patches were mom had sewed up tares in the fabric. Some were even mix-matched, the other colors making the clothes look even worse than they should be.
I rummage through the box, holding up the occasional shirt or pair of pants to my body. Only finding a few shirts and two pairs of pants that would still fit me. I threw them on my pallet, and hefted the box up into my arms. Sheila and her kids would definitely be grateful for this, the amount of clothes in this box is
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