At this time of night, there were no people on the streets. It was around 7 o'clock on a Thursday, so most families were together eating. The worst part of the day was over now. Dates were beginning, Wheel of Fortune was on, dinner was being served. Those families that could hold it together were in those lit apartments that lined the sidewalk Finn was currently holding down. From this angle, he could see a family seated around a table in the third story of the apartment across the street. They looked happy. They were rare. He had never had a family dinner like that, where there was no fighting and all the members of the family were present. That was why he had no idea what his family were up to now. Three years ago he had himself legally emancipated. It had been the best thing that had ever happened to him in a sense. He had got along fine. Until now, he had had a job and an apartment that was mostly up to code. He had a dinky beat up car t hat broke down sometimes and a life that he had made for himself. It had been better than with them. Though, times got hard and they needed less workers than they thought. The rent soon became due and the landlord had little patience. Suddenly, that dinky car had become home and he had been living on the fringes of that last paycheck that had come too late.
Leaving his post on the wall, he had pulled his dusty windbreaker around his thinning body. His clothes were simple: a pair of jeans that were torn and patched and dirty, a white tee shirt with a fading Beatles graphic across the chest, a black windbreaker that he had taken from lost and found a couple weeks ago, and a black beanie. He looked the part of the homeless guy. His white blonde hair, which looked like a complete wreck even when it had been washed, was fraying out from underneath the beanie, despite his efforts to furiously tuck it back in. The wind was chilling and he would find relief in his car later on after his mission was over.
After walking a short distance, he ducked into a convenience store. He had one goal in mind and that would be accomplished with two steps to the drink cooler to get a Mountain Dew and then back pedaling to the candy aisle for a pack of Reese Cups. His foraging took forty seconds at most.
The lady at the counter was old. Her face was wrinkled from years of suntanning and cigarettes
Leaving his post on the wall, he had pulled his dusty windbreaker around his thinning body. His clothes were simple: a pair of jeans that were torn and patched and dirty, a white tee shirt with a fading Beatles graphic across the chest, a black windbreaker that he had taken from lost and found a couple weeks ago, and a black beanie. He looked the part of the homeless guy. His white blonde hair, which looked like a complete wreck even when it had been washed, was fraying out from underneath the beanie, despite his efforts to furiously tuck it back in. The wind was chilling and he would find relief in his car later on after his mission was over.
After walking a short distance, he ducked into a convenience store. He had one goal in mind and that would be accomplished with two steps to the drink cooler to get a Mountain Dew and then back pedaling to the candy aisle for a pack of Reese Cups. His foraging took forty seconds at most.
The lady at the counter was old. Her face was wrinkled from years of suntanning and cigarettes
