Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Photo Story Piece Draft 2

1930, Great Depression
greatdepression-causes.com

I don’t know why this man with his fancy picture taker keeps coming by to see me and Jeremy. He talks to mama for a while, snaps a few pictures of us, and then he is gone. I’m hungry, there’s a hollow feeling in my stomach that won’t go away. I gave my bread mama gave us to Jeremy last night, he ate it gratefully, gobbling it up like it would disappear. They call this place that we live in a Hooverville in this big old Dust Bowl that’s all around us. I feel like I’ve been rolling in this giant Bowl of Dust for years and years. The dirt sticks to me and won’t let go, mama tries to wash me and Jeremy off but it doesn’t do any good. Our Pa left us a few months ago; he said it wasn’t worth it anymore. I still don’t know what he meant by that. Were we not worth it anymore? Was life not worth it anymore? Was trying to fight his way out of this bowl of dust not worth it anymore? I don’t know. I’m only five, so maybe I’ll know when I’m older. He told me and Jeremy that he loved us, and that I would have to be the man of the family now. I’m only five.

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