It’s been a week of hard work, most of my nights spent on a cold, hard park bench. I’m not accustomed to this sort of poverty. Some nights I can think of nothing but how unfair it was for father to give me so little after how devoted I was to him and the family. I know that such thoughts are unworthy and try to push them away. I miss my bed.
There is some new furniture now. I sold the grill and purchased a refrigerator. Between the money left from the sale and the money I made at work I was able to get a counter and a couch. Later I added an easel thinking that my art was more important than a bed since the art can make me money and the bed can’t. It was an important sacrifice which I think turned out to be a smart decision. Up until then I was going to the art museum and using the easel there.
I met a woman. I don’t think she’s the woman though. She’s very beautiful with a pleasing face and long brown hair, but sometimes she does things that are so very common. I’m certain father would not approve of her, but I’ve really been enjoying her company. She spends as much time at the art museum as I do.
By the end of the week I finally had a bed and walls all around my possessions. I think it was a good week overall.
By my hand,