8 Word Contest 9 Widows Mites

The banker didn’t see me, but I saw. The bag behind the bush contained everything. Clothes. Food. Memories. Everything that was left of an indigent life. Forced to part with all their worldly possessions for a moment, perhaps to pee, perhaps to eat, perhaps to beg for widow’s mites, someone had hidden the bag under the bush like a broken wren, delicate, consecrated with the hope it might fly again, if it survives all the things that crawl in the dust. The banker must have thought it convenient, the way that life was stuffed in a 40 gallon bag ready to be pitched. How easily he threw it away. A chore he enjoyed for once. He had no sudden awakening to save him from his egregious sin. No angel tried to mediate his cruel delerium. The wind just played with his tie as he returned to work, obtuse. Contest sponsor John Hamilton, Eight Word Challenge 9 9/6/2019