He thinks to himself

Keep your head down

No eye contact

Just work your

Way there

And finish this torment



His hands are shaking

In his trench coat pocket

And they rattle a loose coin

Against the metal of the

Snub nosed revolver

Carelessly tossed

Into its current place



There is a little boy

Walking alongside him

Just a smaller version

Of this man

Only wearing a faded orange

Winter coat

That’s getting a little too small



The boy looks up

At his father

And says

‘I’m hungry

When do we get

To eat?’



The man shoves his

Hands into the coat pockets

And cradles the revolver

‘Soon, son,

We just have to stop

And get some money

First.’



The boy looks down at the

Top of his battered converse

And mutters the response

‘But my stomach hurts.’



The man stops

And turns to face the boy

‘If I had something to give you

I would

But I’m starving too

And I’m the only one

Who even tries

To get us money.’



The boys’ eyes well up

With tears

And he has

No response



The man doesn’t notice

Those tear drops

Falling in front of

His sons’ shoes



The next words

He spits at the boy are

‘Go wait for me

Across the street.

I want you to watch

And learn

How to take care

Of your family.’



So the boy waits for the

Signal to cross the street

Then the orange hand

Switches to the

White walking man

And he follows orders



The man watches the boy

Trudge across the intersection

And sit down at the

Bus stop  

Then the elder works

His way down the street

To the nearest alley

And leans next to its

Entrance



He checks once more

Making sure his son

Hasn’t moved

Then takes to watching

Pedestrians

On their way to work



The boy feels

His stomach

Gnawing on the

Inside of his ribcage

But averts his gaze

Back to his father



There is a brief

Moment of panic

When the he

Can’t find his

Guardian

But then

Discovers him

Leaning against

A wall just down

The block



His father seems to

Be studying the

People walking past him

Looking for something

Specific



Then a man in an

Expensive suit

Passes in front

Of his Father



And both disappear

Into the shadows



Time seems to slow

For only a moment



The boy wonders

What his father is doing

Then a gunshot sounds



The expensive suit

Stumbles from the alley

The snub nosed pistol

Shaking in his hand

Screaming for the police

And the boy still

Waits

Patiently for his

Father to bring him

Breakfast