Themes: Moses
Suspiciously few hours in the day when a third job would have been helpful. Suspiciously little time to get from Job 1 to Monica's school. Little sisters left too long waiting. Concerned teachers. Impossible to ignore someone smelling like fries, having absorbed the vapors of the deep fat fryer. Nauseating. Thankful through hands rubbed raw that Job 2 involved washing dishes; got some of the stink off along with the layers of skin. Stared fiercely when told he'd have trouble beyblading with his hands like that. Beybladed anyway. Winced. Tried to learn something and come away from practice with more than popped blisters.
Stared narrowly when told he ought to prioritize; blading could be their big break. So what, in the meantime starve? Of course all the knicked fast food wasn't good for Monica, but. Fuck, she drew a picture. Concerned guidance counselors. Little sisters crying in defense of his honor. Big brothers crying in response to little sisters, but only in private; brave, proud faces for Child Services. Lots of character witnesses, thank God. CS was a load of crap anyway. Nobody cared about kids anymore; everyone was alone like this sometime; everyone in their generation had a story.