I just feel like free styling a story.
Let me know what you think.
It wasn’t the sun laying on my skin that kept the warmth on me. It was the wool-blanket over my head on a hot day. The wool-blanket was dark grey, too small, and frayed. It kept me warm on the nights it was cold, so I couldn’t just get rid of it. I laid in the center of the field across from the park.
People’s families were playing at the park, having fun, and enjoying the company of friends. I envied their happiness. I couldn’t be happy anymore, and I couldn’t see my family the way they saw their family. I could only see my family when they saw me. The awkward meeting when running into them on the street.
They left me here alone to rot. I sit at this park to watch them from a distance. They know I come here, and sometimes I think they come here to let me see what I’m missing.
I laid at this park every night, and I slept through the days to avoid the contact of others. I couldn’t let others see me lay here–Homeless.