I don't like people calling me "bum".
But they couldn't find any other way to say it.
Every morning, at dawn, I would climb out from under the bridge. The ground was still cold from the night, and the quilt stained with moisture was harder than a stone.
I put away the plastic bags and bundled the bottles I couldn't throw away and put them aside. You have to sell them before others do today, otherwise the recycling bin will be closed.
There are more and more homeless people in this city. Bridge openings, underground passages, and abandoned construction sites are all occupied by people. We are not friends, but we will not take each other's territory casually. As we all know, a good night's sleep is more important than anything else.
Sometimes I can work part-time at construction sites, helping move bricks and clearing garbage, and earn dozens of dollars. The boss won't remember names, so usually "Hi, you" is enough. When the money is paid at the right time, with a wrinkled note in my hand, I feel a little more at ease.
When I don't have enough money, I go to the vegetable market to finish the supplies. You can even pick out half a rotten cabbage from the leaves, and you can eat it after washing it.
I don't dare to get sick. Sickness is more terrible for homeless people than starvation. No medicine, no bed, no one to care for. You can only drag it through on your own.
Conception:-