God's Hanger

3WW post for the 16th of October
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Three rings. The sum total of his possessions. Plus a rupee. He has half a mind to bury the rings somewhere before going away. The utter lack of any feeling forbids him from giving them to a fellow being. He wears them instead.

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Three rings. He pulls away. He waits. He lets the next call trip over to voice mail, letting it take his last rupee down with it. He hears the request to place a message. He clicks.

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He is not daunted by it anymore.
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He chances upon an unopened packet of food while scouring the refuse bin. There is my last meal, he says to himself.

He picks it up and moves over to the other side of the road. He lays it open on the footpath. Your food always deserves a clean pair of hands, he remembers. Ever fastidious.

 He walks on to wash his hands at the fount at the far end of the street.

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He bemoans his misfortune as he stares at the empty packet. He wipes his wet hand over his shirt. He spots a dog skipping across the road with his poisoned meal between its teeth. He is incredulous and stunned to find his death snatched from him in such a manner. His loathing for the fellow being intensifies.

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In between the two row of fine teeth that this dog has been blessed with, it holds a sumptuous piece of meat, a treat for the lone underfed stray on an empty street. Too hungry to wait, it drops its meal and proceeds to eat.

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It was an accident goddamit! You find an empty street, you count it as a blessing and you drive fast - that's the rule in a city. I swerved to not hit the dog and I ended up hitting a homeless. Least he could have done was to move away. He had no business standing still there!

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