by M. J. Joachim
Hallelujah! Hotdogs for breakfast! Who knew a hobo could find so much enjoyment from something as silly as that? Harry hadn’t been a hobo for long. He used to have a job at the local machinery factory, until it closed down during the great recession that sent most home-based merchants into a tail-spin. Once the housing crisis hit, it was all over.
Harry and his friends decided to take the path of least resistance. They chose to hit the road and find any work for hire they could. Homeless and hoping for a chance to earn a meal, Harry was the last one still heading across the country. A couple of his boys moved in with their parents; one did the unthinkable – drunk and in the depths of despair. Three others managed to find permanent work along the journey.
Not Harry though. He was destined to be a hobo forever, celebrating life in all its glory, one bright day at a time. Today, he was celebrating hotdogs for breakfast. The local hooker house needed some maintenance, you see, a few hinges replaced on doors and cupboards, some fresh paint and hardware fixed up on the outside, odd jobs no one in town would dare to bother with, on account of hoping the local hooker house would be put out of business and clear on out of town.
Harry helped, and today he received hotdogs for breakfast as his pay. He was positively in heaven.
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Photo credit: Hot dog, Evan Swigart, Creative Commons Attribution 2.0
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