If I were a journalist

There’s another new supposedly homeless guy in town. I say supposedly homeless because I’m not entirely convinced of his story. He sits drawing in doorways, though he isn’t badly dressed, he looks relatively clean and I saw him sipping a bottle of Lipton Iced Tea the other day. His sign reads something along the lines of “I’m homeless and I’ve hit rock bottom, please spare some change”. So for the first time in months, I gave a beggar all the coins I had in my purse. Besides, he’s a talented artist.

On Christmas Day Margaret was the only person sat on one of K’roads many benches. I’ve never seen her talk to anyone before, she normally sits silently, puffing away. However, today she wondered if I had $2 to spare for the bus, I knew I had $4.80 in my purse, so I gave her what she asked.