A hungry day

It was a cold and cloudy dawn. In a Paris full of crowd, a man was starving. A morning mist, wrapping his park up in an ivory snow, which was full of inhabitants running, trying to drop a pound or two, gift from last 31st. Who? A villain, which condition got population avoiding him. Not bad, nor vicious, but oozing alcohol from downtown. A hungry gipsy without a coin. Lugging his frail body haphazardly, that puffy shabby man was finishing a bazaar. Oh look, just a foot from him, a loaf, almost without a scratch, still firm and crispy! Today’s bargain. Quickly rushing at it, pushing a kid away, our bum got it. So what? Too hungry, no way this would slip away from him. No way. But, wait. Stop. For a jiff, having thought of taking it, stupid idiot! No, dropout but still human, got child a bit of his loaf, who would swallow it instantly. “Now, oust!” Nothing. “I said, back off!” Tot shaking and imploring him was also intimidating without a word. Was six, at most. No whining nor crying. Unusual for a brat. Alright… Sighing:
“- Kid, what’s your…?
– Ludo.
– What you doing? Go.
– No.
– Your mommy and daddy?
– Away.
– Away?
– For good.
– Shit.”

Throwing his food at him, took liquor out of his bag and drank to fool starvation. “Not good for you, you know. Call SAMU, okay buddy?” Nodding and thanking his good Samaritan, lil’ boy was back on track.

Not usually a good guy nor chatty, our man thought about his donation. What was going on? Why nourishing him? Now, it was him again who was hungry. But oddly, that was not an option, but an obligation. So, his food safari was continuing. In front of him, an old man was nibbling a pain au chocolat. Gosh! And a young boy was killing a whopping salmon sandwich, pizza and chips. Almost got a black out, lurching and stomping. A bit of drink was his saviour, but his final goal was still far away, as his crash was not. So, analyzing his situation, a solution was obvious: why not robbing? Still shaky, that poor vagabond was boiling, not knowing if that would do. Calm down, stand firm. Trying or dying, that was it! Most of all, without failing.

Now, a sight of cars in a continuous flow was shown, road hogs honking crazily until giving him brain pain. A kitty, amid this air full of disgusting pollution, almost got caught by a car, skimming its last roundup. What a shock for this animal-loving tramp, noticing horror of a dying capitalism.

His mind was off, lost in fantasy. Running far away, owning a flat, raising dogs, nurturing plants… ambition or illusion? Go on a road trip too. Always thought about it, couldn’t thus far. His condition was actually hurting him. If only, ripping off his chains, out from this unknown prison!

Firstly, a job. A hard, but stimulating and promising job. Not a silly thing without any goal that would only crush his mind. His adoration for action was such that front was a must, transpiration of body, of mind too. Yup, a good job in supporting anybody without a roof.

Also, a roof, a shirt, pants, that was all. And flirting, why not? Smooth fragrancy of passion, had known that long ago. A significant cantata, top joy, what a loss. In his old days Casanova, today sinking in anonymity. So, why all of this now? A wrong pick, and a painful sanction that got to throw him down in an abysmal whirlpool which was tracing him a gloomy horizon.

For now, this shoddy tramp was dossing outdoors in a frosty cold, without cash but worry. An actual ghost, mainly as that sad guy drank, occasional soak. So, solution was obvious. A trivial burglary and that only. Tough option but if not? Moulding? Rotting? No way. Finishing as outlaw was, in a way, just fair. So, morning? No, nightfall. Yup, twilight. Sun down, no light, inconspicuous, his dark plan had no flaw. Yup, doing it smoothly. No harm nor blood, indubitably. Calming his stomach a bit, that’s all.

Look, a mouldy crust! Following his animal instinct, our hobo fought hardly, had a long and tough hand-to-hand fight, battling against many rats, suffocating as snatching his loot, totally worn-out. What for? Was his asking, taking his shiny shiv, cutting and staring at a micro bit of it, masticating until its total dissolution as swallowing was a tough option, but abdicating and duplicating this act again and again. A vicious qualm took him down, making him cough hard and vomit his poor chunk: rat poison, who did that?! Probation again, but for how long? That continuous fight would only finish with his ruin. It was still far, but roaming and approaching straight. And as his panic was growing, so was his loss.

Again, what was his position? His hungry stomach told him. Gut was obviously a must, but doubt was also in his mind. “Should I stay or should I go?” Anyway, had to act. Walking and walking, plotting his machination, cooking a fantastic plan. It was taking form. So into it, almost forgot his famishing. That was his fatal salvation. Sickly boiling as an action-loving man, was moral for six months, no harm at all, disliking sins. A strict timing too: swim or sink. Foul was not an option, as institution would not discuss or pardon: guilty!

Now, that critical instant was coming in a total blur. First of all, by visualizing his spot, glancing all around and stalking so nobody would stay around. This lost guy watch was sharp, from crazy violin guy cursing anybody to girl finishing shopping, or blown-out boss closing doors to lay down a bit… By skimming many walls, our vagrant was approaching quickly to a 24/7 shop. This man was no coward, but this situation had no room for miscalculation, or trial and jail would wait for him.

Soon his plan would put him to slip into that shop, but for now, outdoors it was good to spy on sitting laird, who all into his daily tabloid was inquiring about hold-ups growth in his country. But mostly, who did not know of his incoming bad luck, which would chain him to a pariah for good. For him, looking at so many humans in frustration or humiliation was truly indignant: this pacific local saw ruin of humanity in privation. To him, world was abundant: anybody could and should own, but nobody had, it was so outraging! So, as much as this man could, would do charity, giving food and clothing to any tramp, such a fulfilling job.

All into his work, did not watch out for hobo’s bursting in. Abruptly, a shadowy and fuzzy body was in front of him. At first, this clumsy crank stood still, but soon was wigwagging and prowling around shop’s till, not soothingly but not alarming. Our calm man was following rascal’s timid hand, acting slowly, snatching and tightly grasping a loaf which did vanish in his tatty coat. This “catch him if you can” play did carry on a bit, by stuffing his bag brimful of food.

“You alright? Got pasta too.” Our vagabond was so afraid that his curst kit did drop and fall on floor. Both did know. Run away. “An instant, if you don’t mind having a talk?” Fumbling, his body was not moving.
“- Buddy, calm down, no harm, alright. A lil’ chat?
– What? Why?” Was our crook babbling.
“- Just so I know, why you playing scamp?
– Got nothing to say. Mind your own biz.
– I’m no fool, you know. I know and don’t know. Wanna catch it, that’s all. It’s up to you.
– I’m in no mood, too long.
– Oh c’mon, got all night long, food and all. Okay?
– Got a pick?
– Yup, I’m not forcing you at all, but I would truly fancy it. And it’s warm yon, right?”

This bum was dubious but at last laid-back, and was finally honouring his invitation. His happy pal of a night took out a GSM for a call. Damn it! What a stab in his back! Too good for his own good, his wild punt was turning into a bust. So that man thought of him as a moron, jackass stupidly applying laws! Wrong. Daddy was just making a goodnight call to his kid. But our misfit did not know that and was raving, totally groggy and dizzy. Prison for a loaf! His primal instinct did roar, as a curst stab hit. From a shiv.

Night was falling as lost man sank.

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2 réponses à “A hungry day

  1. Impressionnant challenge réussi ! Pas facile ton texte dites donc. Tu as réussi à placer des mots qu’on ne voit pas tous les jours. J’avoue que j’ai dû prendre le dico. Héhé ! y a des expressions où je te vois trop les dire en live du style « road hogs honking crazily « . Ambiance glauque bien posée, j’ai mal au cœur pour cet homme. Tu devrais le soumettre avec la version française ! ;)

    • Ohh merci pour ton retour Kiss ! Content que ça t’ait intriguée, plus difficile en anglais qu’en français, mais bon tu me connais… Je cherche désormais un nouveau challenge, avis aux idées ;)

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