For years he had been waiting for this. The light jingling of a bell signaled his entrance into the small, dark clothing shop. A spidery old woman with sunken eyes met his gaze.
“Anton?” she murmured in a tired, wispy voice, “Is that you? I told you, I ain't giving you any more-”
I held out my hand to stop her, opening my remaining palm to flash a tight wad of money. Her face instantly morphed into one of false delight and wonder.
“So, you finally decided to buy something useful,” she stated with a small quiver of a laugh, “And here I thought you were going to stay the way you were forever.”
His mind flashed back to a particularly cold night. He lay upon the unforgiving concrete of the city floor, his body wracked with spasms of cold and withdraw. People walked past his shuddering body, some hastening their pace as they witnessed him.
“Could I take a look at your jeans?” he replied, blinking back the memory and stuffing it back into his skull, “And a T-shirt. White is fine.”
The old woman sprang into action at Anton's orders. She wordlessly gestured for him to follow her as she disappeared behind several clothing racks.
“You don't even smell anymore,” she said gruffly sometime later.
Despite the woman's harsh nature, Anton laughed. He was through with people like her.
“I guess I'm just ready for a change,” she responded with similar tone.
He remembered the look of shock upon the hotel clerk's face when he was able to slap enough money upon the counter for one night's stay. The shower was the best part. Layers of grime fell from his body the moment water touched his skin.
“Years of panhandling I assume?” she went on to say, shaking him from his thoughts, “More than I can say about most of those damn bums out there.”
Anton shrugged.
“They're good people,” he replied back, causing the woman to shrink a bit, “I want to help them, once I'm able.”
He left then, now wearing the new clothes he had bought.
A kind of confidence surged through Anton unlike anything he had felt before. He was clean. He was sober. He was ready for change.
His eyes cast back to the alleyway that had been his home for the past two years. Others were in there; broken, hopeless souls that felt that nothing would ever get better. He wanted to make things better for them as well. He wanted to give them the hope that he had somehow begun to acquire.
He crossed the street, toward the first retail shop with a large white sign reading 'HELP WANTED' hanging in the window. His mind was buzzing with thought, emotion and revelation. He barely took note of the large shadow of a truck headed directly toward him. He walked in large strides, ears deaf to the long drone of the honking horn over the normal loud bustle of the city.
He was struck at the hip, causing his body to contort and roll over the large windshield of the vehicle. His body slapped at the pavement, the truck's wheels screaming against the road in it's haste to escape the grizzly scene.
Anton blinked slowly, the world of towering skyscrapers and smog-filled sky spinning about his blurry vision. People began to gather around him. He tasted the metallic flavor of blood in his mouth. He could barely move, yet struggled to as he saw familiar faces. Those that took him in through his darkest times, giving him shelter and company amidst the bustle of uncaring society. His lips tingled as he attempted to speak. He watched them lean in.
“Change.”
He felt the light above grow blinding. His face contorted into one, final grin. He hoped they could see how much it meant to him.
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