Billy always dreads the winter months. They're cold, wet, and harsh for many of the homeless, of whom he is one. However, he finds some solace in the kindness of strangers whose acts of charity sometimes stem from pity and sometimes from deep empathy. He doesn't realize why some treat him as lesser or as someone who has no feelings when they're perfectly kind to their own, but he has become used to such indiscrepancies. After all, he's just a homeless stranger to them.
Billy is not the whinging type. Whenever he can, he tries to secure his food and temporary shelter, or sleeping spot, on his own. People sometimes make this harder than it already is, though. They litter the streets, park their cars carelessly and take up space unnecessarily, and throw out perfectly good food instead of giving it to those like him. He always adapts, however. Billy is not the whinging type.
Billy sometimes tries to talk to people, although only few pay attention to what he has to say. He has a lot to say. His health isn't always the best, and it gets harder the older he grows and the less energy he has to live such an unstable life. Perhaps people don't listen because he's not a local and they don't understand his language. Perhaps it's simple apathy to his story. Perhaps it's the fact that he doesn't have the biggest stature, which makes him unlikely to be noticed. Everyone is going to work, playing with their kids, or going on a date. Everyone is busy writing their own story. They have no place for Billy. He doesn't ask for a place in their lives, but they also fail to leave him alone to adapt in peace.
It's still okay. Billy hates no one. He's incapable of hatred. No matter how many people mistreat him or ignore his struggle, he always has kindness and affection to share with those who are receptive. Billy sees no race, religion, or politics. He only sees whether people treat him well or not.
He finds a bench to sleep on for the night. Not the best spot, since people will push him away in the morning. But he has had worse nights.
Billy sees someone approaching in the dark, but thankfully, they walk away and leave him be. He lets out a faint meow, wraps his tail around his body, and goes to sleep.
Billy is not the whinging type. Whenever he can, he tries to secure his food and temporary shelter, or sleeping spot, on his own. People sometimes make this harder than it already is, though. They litter the streets, park their cars carelessly and take up space unnecessarily, and throw out perfectly good food instead of giving it to those like him. He always adapts, however. Billy is not the whinging type.
Billy sometimes tries to talk to people, although only few pay attention to what he has to say. He has a lot to say. His health isn't always the best, and it gets harder the older he grows and the less energy he has to live such an unstable life. Perhaps people don't listen because he's not a local and they don't understand his language. Perhaps it's simple apathy to his story. Perhaps it's the fact that he doesn't have the biggest stature, which makes him unlikely to be noticed. Everyone is going to work, playing with their kids, or going on a date. Everyone is busy writing their own story. They have no place for Billy. He doesn't ask for a place in their lives, but they also fail to leave him alone to adapt in peace.
It's still okay. Billy hates no one. He's incapable of hatred. No matter how many people mistreat him or ignore his struggle, he always has kindness and affection to share with those who are receptive. Billy sees no race, religion, or politics. He only sees whether people treat him well or not.
He finds a bench to sleep on for the night. Not the best spot, since people will push him away in the morning. But he has had worse nights.
Billy sees someone approaching in the dark, but thankfully, they walk away and leave him be. He lets out a faint meow, wraps his tail around his body, and goes to sleep.
