I sit waiting for the painter to finish...I wish he would be done with it. You promised me money and I am hungry and cold in this room. I don't like how he looks at me but when your stomach aches and won't let you sleep you do just about anything. Mama told me and told me to keep myself from men but orphans of the plague need to look out for themselves. Ain't nobody going to look after me but myself. The painter ain't so bad to look at but his beard is scratchy and he smells funny. Could I get used to it---like the other girls? I guess so and I would have a place to sleep right. Oh good, he is coming with a hunk of bread and cheese---can I move now?
(Seola 7 Custom house SD body)
No comments:
Post a Comment