by Tim O'Dell

Created on: June 09, 2009

Excerpt from: Nine Lives

So I found myself living from a cardboard box. Life's twists and turns had led me to that place. I thought the world that revolved around me would never change. How wrong could I be? From riches to rags in a few short months; it was there I learned what life really meant. Would things have turned out the way they did if I hadn't had that experience? I don't know. I can't say I'm glad it happened, at the time it seemed like my world had ended, but it turned out to be a great lesson for me.

It was cold under that bridge. Though I wore several layers of clothing, all the possessions that remained to me, the frost and ice still ate into my bones. We would all stand around the little fire, warming ourselves as best we could. Shunned by society, called hobos or worse, barely surviving. I think my predicament really hit home the day Jono died. We had found him wrapped in his blankets by the walkway. We didn't realise until the day was well worn that he hadn't arisen. So we went to rouse him and realised he would never get up again. Thirty-two; he had been thirty-two. Three years younger than I was at the time. The coroner said he had died of exposure. It was a fate that the homeless often succumbed to; a fate that had awaited all of us. We had known life expectancy was less than five years for those that lived on the streets. That's where Sara found me.

I had been young, the first time round; she had been one of many. I hardly remembered her, our short-lived relationship was marred by arrogance, ignorance, dishonesty. All on my part, of course. Had I known life would turn out like it did, things may have been different. Probably not though, my character has always been my downfall. Seeing her again was a pleasure and a burden. I still don't know quite why she had tracked me down, but track me down she did. I saw her approach and wondered what such a beautiful woman was doing down here, in the garbage, the stink, the muddy world of society's detritus.

"Adam?" she said.

"Do I know you?" I frowned, still unable to place that sleek, hazel eyed, black haired face.

Her peach-pout spread in a smile revealing super white teeth. "Adam, it's Sara. Don't you remember me?"

I frowned, wrapping my crossed arms tighter around my body. "Obviously not."

Her smile slipped, just a little, just a tiny bit, but not enough to betray any displeasure in my statement. "Well, you haven't changed that

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