cant read but I can write.
Bias Osswel was sitting in the room he rented. The sensation that follows being on the streets. He only knew how to run, from the days he is too old to remember to the rebelious young man running from homes again and again. There in his room smoking rulled up leaf tabboco. He got the tabocco from the pockets of his coat. A lady in the stair case the week before exchanged light for smokes. Now without a working lighter Bias got creative flicking a bic lighters flint over and over.
All the nicoteen was gone into warm vapours Bias began to feel hunger it was there all day but now was painful.
There were beer cans in his room enough to buy two mr.noodles and another type of instant noodle which came with bowl. There in the parking lot of the beer store was empty cans that someone spilt. So Bias could now afford an apple along with his noodles. The rest of the change was to trade for smokes. Stomach full and smoking a full ciggerate.
summer came and became homeless again.
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