The Family Begins to Starve
It was nearly six in the evening, he should be getting home about now, he thought after mindfully checking his watch. He would try and make a reasonable decision, whether or not he should spend another hour or two looking for more houses he could shovel snow from. Since losing his job at the toothpaste factory, he tried to make up for the lost income his family so desperately needed. Even if it was for a few more pennies or even a shilling, it would mean he'd be able to afford a few more cabbages while he was in between jobs.
At least give Charlie and his family a fighting chance.
A pained groan escaped from Mr. Bucket's throat.
He could see them again, blackness crept into the corners of his vision. Mr. Bucket blinked his eyes fighting against the dehydration and from the exhaustion, he spent many days without eating a proper meal. Exerting all of his energies into shoveling driveways and paths for clients, he cared little about his deteriorating health, he worried about his son. He was a growing boy who needs proper nutrition, a warm home, a bedroom of his own where he could sleep and keep the few books he owned sitting inside a bookshelf.
He was ashamed he could never afford the life Charlie deserved to have.
Mr. Bucket despite feeling faint, mustered the energies he needed to trudge through the slush and ice. His shoes were wet and filthy since leaving his home early in the morning, long before Charlie had to be awoken to attend school. He should have been careful to keep his shoes dry, his shoes were rather old to begin with. So there was no use taking the necessary precautions from stopping the bottom of his soles from becoming soaking wet.
But he would return home soon and he would dry his shoes before setting outside his home tomorrow morning to try again. He had to try, to find a better paying livelihood, something, anything that would help his family.
He gripped the shovel with numb hands fighting against the abrasive cold, the stinging breezes and the wind hissing past his ears. Mr. Bucket wasn't about to quit, not yet, another hour and then he'd return home and someday he would deliver his family good news. If only it didn't feel as though all strength was leaving him before he could accomplish this seemingly impossible endeavor.
Why, why did he suddenly feel so tired?