My feet were aching; the thin and peeling soles of Jude’s shoes provided no support or protection from the harsh gravel and concrete. ‘One more step, one more, one more’ my mind kept repeating. I could walk no further, and as my feet settled in place I raised my head to see the Soup Kitchen in front of me. I debated whether or not my feet were even capable of carrying me another inch, and finally propelling myself forward I made my way inside.
The line was surprisingly short at that time of night, and so I dragged myself to its end. I stood behind an older man wearing nothing but swimming trunks. Liver spots blotched every inch of his exposed skin, with puss filled bumps appearing to emerge from beneath. From the depths of his pores leaked a musty odor that had the slightest hint of something that had crawled into a deep crevice and died. I turned my head behind me and deeply inhaled as much relatively "clean" air as I could, before peering around the side of him to see what was taking so long.
A plump woman stood behind the counter dealing out some unrecognizable concoctions at a disgustingly slow pace. Her skin had acquired a brown, tarnished hue from what looked like months of not washing. A mole large enough that at a glance would have appeared as a tumor of some sort or even a third eye, sat in the middle of her forehead and was sprouting several thick, black long hairs that jutted out a good centimeter from her skin. Straggly matted pieces of hair had escaped from her poorly secured hair net, bits of dust, dirt, and everything in between caught within its cross-stiches. Adding to the sluggish process was the fact that despite the hearing aids she possessed in both ears, she couldn't have heard an ambulance if it was an inch from mowing her down in the middle of the street.
I waited for what seemed like an eternity before finally reaching the front of the line. I didn't bother wasting my breathe and simply pointed at the 'Soup Of The Day' beneath the cracking plate glass window that covered the batches of gook.
She smiled at me and yelled in an unintelligible foreign accent "Jude, how nice to see you again! It's been a while," as she methodically poured the "soup" into an old cup that still had dried reminisce of another's previous meal coating its edges.
Without a moments pause I quickly retaliated, screaming with all the force i could muster "I'm not Jude god damnit!"
She flinched behind the counter. I could tell she was frightened as she stopped mid-pour, the ladle slightly tilted to one side still in hand, frozen with fear.
I scowled at her, and reaching over the glass I snatched the bowl of luke warm slush from her grip, slipped outside through the back door, and set myself down against the back wall of the building. I ate quickly, the bland brown mixture had no taste or aesthetics worth enjoying. The lake was still, only disturbed by the occasional box, beer bottle, diaper, and anything else imaginable deciding to surface from below. Leaning my head back, legs daintily crossed, and my hands resting against my small thighs, I allowed myself to drift off to sleep.
