His Pen Changed Him

His Pen Changed Him

Status: In Progress

Genre: Romance

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Details

Status: In Progress

Genre: Romance

Houses:

Summary

A homeless drunk, his dog, an affinity for writing, and a chance from a beautiful woman. Alex has never been one for selling out, and making it big, but after he gives his book to an employee of a publishing company, he starts to make millions. His greed, and wealth lead him down a dark path, and make him stray away from what he used to hold so dear.
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Summary

A homeless drunk, his dog, an affinity for writing, and a chance from a beautiful woman. Alex has never been one for selling out, and making it big, but after he gives his book to an employee of a publishing company, he starts to make millions. His greed, and wealth lead him down a dark path, and make him stray away from what he used to hold so dear.

Chapter1 (v.1) - The Man, His Book, and His Dog

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: January 26, 2017

Reads: 46

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: January 26, 2017

A A A

A A A

He was a kind gentleman, but it didn’t change the fact that he was quite odd. He was a skillful man, having gone to trade school, and culinary school. He also had a true heart, but something about him just made it hard to fall in love with him. He tried so hard to make lovers stay but they’d always leave. At this point in his life, he was thirty, and had few friends. The friends he did have were getting married and forgetting about poor Alex. He had about three true friends; his dog, Charity, alcohol, and his pen. He would write for hours on end, curled up underneath the overpass at 10th and Jamestown. Homeless, drunk and alone was the way he enjoyed his life. He woke up, the taste of stale liquor in his mouth. He grumbled angrily, and rolled over. Sitting up, he listened to the rush hour traffic racing across the bridge, as he did every morning. He looked over at Charity, stroking his beard, and spoke as though he was speaking to an actual person.

“These damn fools rushing everywhere in life, they don’t know the joys of taking everything nice and slow.” The dog watched him speak, as though she understood what he was saying. He stood, and grabbed the plastic bag he kept his notebook in. He turned to Charity again.

“Today’s the day,” He told her, grinning. He started on his way, going from underneath the overpass, to the sidewalk above. Well-dressed business people parted as though he were Moses, and they were the Dead Sea. Something about being homeless made people try to avoid you on the sidewalk. Alex thought that it maybe due to the fear of poverty, or maybe he needed to invest in some soap. He walked along, taking his time, people rushing by him quickly. He saw no need to rush about. Something about being homeless had given him a certain Zen. He never rushed anywhere, but instead leisurely walked, taking in everything around him. When he actually met new people, he took the time to really get to know them. He’d heard many life stories, his favorite of all was the man who traveled across the country to be with the women he loved. Alex had taken the time to get to know this kind man. He wondered where the guy ended up as he walked along. He rounded the corner, and set his eyes on Eagle Publishing House. This building had been the bane of his existence. He walked by it everyday on his way to the shelter, and it always made him feel bad that he hadn’t finished his novel. He walked up the steps, looking at the building, as though it were an ominous giant. This was his Everest, and he was going to conquer it. He opened up the door, and went in. The lobby was overwhelming for someone of his economic status. He looked around, as though he were a child in a candy store. He’d been standing there for about five minutes, before people began to notice the man everyone tried to ignore. A lady at the main desk whispered to a security guard, and he nodded at her. The big man walked towards Alex, with a purpose in his step. Alex got the hint, turned on his heel, and left. He sat on one of the steps outside, and looked solemnly at the plastic bag with his notebook. A tear fell from his eye, and it was chased by many more, which fell onto the bag. He put his head in his lap and sobbed. This book was his last hope, and it was a lost cause. Nobody would talk to a homeless man about publishing a book. He suddenly felt a light tap on his shoulder. He lifted his head up and wiped away his tears with the back of his hand. A young woman stood there, in a pencil skirt and a pink blouse, holding out a bagel and cup of coffee. Alex graciously accepted it, and the lady sat next to him.

“Not often that we get homeless people wondering into our lobby,” she said, watching him eat.

“Can I ask what you were doing?” She asked, watching him with tender eyes. What he didn’t know was that he reminded her of her father, who had taught her how to enjoy life’s little moments. He was gone now, and she still used what he taught her everyday.

“Not often a woman likes you talks to a man like me.”

She chuckled, and waited for an answer to her question. He took a sip of the black coffee, and spoke.

“I was wanting to get something published,” He told her, holding up the notebook in the bag. She looked at it as though it were a copy of the bible.

“Where do you stay?” She asked him.

“Under the overpass at 10th and Jamestown.” She nodded, and then motioned to the bag.

“If you give that to me, then I’ll read it, and get it back to you.” He looked at her, and reluctantly handed it over to her. She smiled, and stood. She reached into her blouse pocket, and removed a twenty. She handed it to him.

“Get some food for tonight.” She said, before turning to walk away. He looked at the woman as she walked away. She was the first person who had shown him so much kindness in awhile. His heart wished he’d see her again, and hopefully soon. He sipped the warm coffee, as he walked along. His split the bagel in half, and ate one half as he walked back to his bridge. The sidewalks were almost empty now, the people who had been walking on them now long gone, into their buildings, to work in their cubical prisons. He went under the bridge, and Charity eagerly greeted him. He stroked her head, and feed her the other half of the bagel, and let her sip from his cup. He’d learned how to share with her.

“Someone took it, I have a chance now,” He told her, sitting down on his makeshift bed. She nuzzled her way onto his lap. He chuckled, and wrapped his arms around her, and rubbed behind her ears.

“Thanks for getting me through this,” he told her. She barked, and he listened. They talked as though having a conversation with a dog was normal. He’d been around her for awhile, and she was his saving grace. If he hadn’t find her as a puppy, neither of them would’ve made it through. She had been abandoned just like him. Being the runt of her litter, she was left outside in the cold to die, but Alex had found her, right after he had lost his apartment. Both of them displaced from home, friends, and family, in the middle of the winter, they quickly become friends. Naturally, the bond grew to where they’d sit for hours and talk. Anyone else would be concerned by this relationship, but for Alex and Charity, it was the norm. He looked at Charity, and chuckled.

“The woman who took my novel, she was very nice, and really cute.”

Charity barked, and he chuckled again.

“I guess you’re right,” He said laying back down.

 


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