I'm so cold.
The man on the news said that the number of murders nationwide have risen 20%.
I can't find my mittens.
The veteran crossing my vision held his dirty rough hand out as he hobbled to the next car.
I can't find my hat.
The red liquid that painted the black and gray floor held up traffic as they took up the mangled pieces of handlebars and car rims.
I found my jacket.
The wrinkled 20 dollars jumped from my pocket scrounging my nose.
I pick it up.
I clutched it for warmth.
The man in front of the kmart shivered as he curled his face into folded arms.
"Where is your jacket?" my mother piped, brows knitted in worry.
"I don't own it anymore."
"Where is the money I gave you?" her hands clutching together
"I gave it away"
"Because I wish the world was warmer."