His body clenched in an unbearable death grip of fear while images of a happy family passed through his slumber. The image of a beautiful wife with loving eyes haunted his gut into nausea. The images of two gorgeously innocent young faces sent cold sweats throughout the old man’s barely sheltered body. The lost security of a well built home confined his chest into breathlessness.
The old man was jolted awake by memories of things he refused to comprehend. In a desperate attempt to murder the images that chose to haunt his slumbered mind, the grey haired old man did his best to focus upon the scattered trash and broken bottles that surrounded him under the abandoned bridge he called home.
The old man in the yellow sneakers turned his head toward his roommate once the agony had crawled back into it’s tiny cage in the back of his mind. Bill was curled into a fetal position upon a stack of broken down cardboard boxes on the opposite side of the abandoned train station bridge. Bill expelled a throat deep rumble snore before rolling over onto his back. The old man in the bright yellow sneakers summoned every ounce of will he could muster to pull himself up off the concrete floor he called a bed and approached his sleeping companion.