Chapter 4
Building a Foundation
Securing a modest income and saving diligently, the protagonist works towards the goal of stable housing, facing setbacks along the way.
The city, even from behind the grimy window of the diner where I now swept floors for minimum wage, felt different. It wasn't the same towering, indifferent brute that had once loomed over my existence on the cold concrete. Now, it was a collection of opportunities, small and difficult to grasp, but tangible nonetheless.
The job had come through Mrs. Rodriguez, the kind, stout woman who owned ‘The Morning Brew.’ She’d seen me trying to scrub the dried mud off my threadbare coat one rainy afternoon, and instead of shooing me away, she’d simply pointed a spatula towards the back door. “You look like you can handle a mop, kid. Five dollars an hour, under the table. Don’t spill the grease.”
Five dollars an hour. It was barely enough to keep the rats fed, let alone me, but it was a structure. It was a schedule. It was knowing that when the bell rang at closing time, I wouldn't have to debate which dumpster offered the softest cardboard for the night.
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