The Wrath Of Harvey Brooklyn; The Underrated Son In Law

ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY FIVE

Michael sat on the edge of the worn-out bed in the cramped apartment he now called home. Looking very sad and troubled.

The peeling paint on the walls and the flickering bulb overhead only helped to remind him of how far he had fallen. He sighed deeply, running a hand through his disheveled hair. His mind was a tangled mess of all his failed plans and hopelessness. Nothing seemed to work anymore. Everything he had once known, every bit of comfort and security, had been stripped away. Those he had brought out from the gutters to help him make money had all been elevated and had moved on with their lives.

The door screeched open, and his wife walked in. Her eyes were red from crying, and she looked as though the weight of the world was pressing down on her shoulders. She was once a woman, full of life and style, but now she was a shadow of her former self. Living in poverty had taken its toll on her. She had missed her only daughter too. Life seemed to lose its meaning in her life.

Mich