I didn’t want to write today, I wanted to go home, but I have no home. I would write at home if I had one, but I have to go to McDonald’s. As much as I love hanging there for a while, I wish there were other internet cafes or we all had Free WiFi,…
Waking Up Alone
Didn’t sleep well last night, I woke up periodically very cold. Sleeping by myself now is very different than all the years I slept with my ex. His snoring would rattle the windows. He was up often with insomnia and made noise repeatedly to wake me up on purpose. I never slept well in my…
You Should See Someone
I had no Healthcare. I had been under my ex-husband’s policy, but they viciously took that away like so many other things when I wasn’t even in court. I was never allowed to use his. Mostly he had me covered in case of something catastrophic, not because he cared, but because he didn’t want to…
Go Walk The Streets
My head still hurts from my mother hitting me in the head with the door. I have no lock on the door so it made it hard to just close it when she started to rage about me being here. I had asked her to leave, there was no point in talking about anything anymore….
Pills People and Streets
Her name was Clara, she was the neighbor next door. My cousin talked about her often in those years. Clara was a little person, what they used to call a “Midget,” but that term according to Google became offensive. Clara would help out with babysitting, visit and keep my cousin from being so lonely, she…
Homeless Morning Writing
April has been bitter cold, I woke up early this morning in so much pain and it was so cold, I usually stay awake through the late night and sleep through the late morning, it’s safer. Anxiety at 3am keeps me awake at night, but it was so cold this morning I wasn’t going to…
Homeless Night Writing
A person who does not stay long in the same place; a wanderer. A digital nomad is a lifestyle, not a profession, someone who travels and makes money online. Digital Nomad I sit writing at Mcdonald’s—my new place to eat and write. Grateful to do this, I love to eat and write or read and…
Homeless Writing
Some days the tears don’t stop, memories come flooding back, things I have to remember differently now that I know the truth. I spent years trying to deal with things that didn’t make sense, but often told I made too much of things. Knowing the truth today helps, but so much wasted time spent trying…
Homeless in a Hotel
Listening to Stevie Nicks after all these years brings back memories of High School as I try and piece together my life. It’s snowing in Portland Maine as I draw back the white sheer curtains and allow the view. There isn’t much of a view here, but having the ocean so close is comforting and…
In The Cellar Again
I awaken to the pungent smell of the cellar. Strong, moldy and damp. My nose starts to hurt. I instinctively try to wipe my nose, but remember we’re not suppose to touch our faces. I itch my head instead. My hair hasn’t been washed in a month. It feels awful. I wonder if it will…
Rhonda J Flanagan 