Eseu narativ descriptiv cu o zi din viata unui cerșetor
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It was a cold Friday morning in the streets of London. The sound of the wind shrieking could be distincly heard over all else from where George was sitting: a narrow alleyway between two buildings. It was where he had slept the night before.
He had woken up not long ago to this terrible sound of the wind. He had barely slept all night, and yet still had no desire to go back to sleep. Sitting with his back against the cold brick wall seemed a better option. And so he waited, nestled in his quiet corner, watching the passers-by walk to wherever. He shifted his position in his sleeping bag, which was bundled into a mess now, but he couldn't be bothered to adjust it so it could be more comfortable.
His eyelids were drooping, heavy with a tiredness that hid behind it more than a lack of sleep. It was a deep exhaustion caused by the stress he had had to endure, for this was how every morning began for him for longer than he could remember. It was eleven years, but it seemed like a thousand lifetimes.
He didn't care about how his leg was cramping from having twisted it under the polyester of the sleeping bag and he could barely feel the cold, although it must've been consideringly cold, because all the passers-by were wearing jackets and hugging their arms, hunching and trying to conserve as much heat as possible.
A black cat meowed a meek hello from behind him, but he did not care to turn his head.
He was barely aware of his own existence anymore, having spent so many days trying to block everything out that he had almost become numb.
The cat jolted him back into reality by knocking over a trash can, the loud sound of the metal clanging against the pavement startling him.
He cursed under his breath and turned his attention towards the feline. It had been after a molden piece of cheese that lay on top of the trash can, which it was now eating.
His trance interrupted, he was suddenly very cold, and decided to try going back to sleep.
When he woke again, it was the evening.
It was a bit warmer now, the rays of the setting sun bleeding into the alleyway through the buildings of the city.
George sat up. Rolling his sleeping back and putting into his backpack, he noticed that the cat had left. Looking around, he decided to go try his luck getting some food at the nearby grocery store.
He walked slowly along the pavement, disasppearing into the crowd of people that was also out on the same street as him on that day. It was times like these when he felt lonelier than ever.
There were couples walking in the evening sun, holding hands and laughing, there were groups of friends, people being together. It was only George who had no one to marvel with over the prettiness of the seven p.m. sky. It was only George who had no one to ask about how their day was, or how his day had been. It was only George who was still cold, even though it had gotten much warmer since nine hours ago.
He stopped at his usual store where he hoped someone would give him enough money to buy something to eat, and started waiting.
Sitting there, it was his deepest wish right then to be able to slip into a trance alike to the one he had fallen into that morning, but the sleep had refreshed him, and he couldn't help but sit there and have to be aware of all the people passing by.
A few hours passed, and the sun had almost set.
There was still light outside, though, and he almost had enough money to buy a can of something from the store. Waiting earnestly, he noticed a man coming toward him.
The man approached with small steps, and as he got closer, George could discern his features better. He had long, slicked back hair, and he was clean shaven. His blue eyes were protruding but kind, and had almost an inquiring look for George.
George's heart filled up with a sharp sentiment of hope. He hoped the man would contribute the last few pounds for his meal, and the man did just so. He put a ten pound bill in his hand, which was as good as George could hope to receive.
George then bought his meal and returned to his alleyway. Another day had passed and he fell into a deep sleep, with a resounding wish in his heart that the next day would be better than the previous.