This is Day 7 at Saint Ann's Charity Soup Kitchen. After we lost our home, Dad said this would be a great place to stay. When I saw this cozy little place, I was a little grateful. But inside was a nightmare. Most of the people were drunks and hobo's and the decent ones all looked like they were Death themselves. Plus, it smelled like sour milk.
When I got in line, I began to have hope. All the soup kitchen hands were pretty young lady's who called me ''Ma'am''. The soup wasn't half-bad either.
Let me introduce you to the hands:
Amber: The best cook and my best friend here. She is about 21 and has auburn hair that she ties back with a red bandanna.
Rosalinda: She is a Mexican immigrant who is the most beautiful woman I ever saw. Believe it or not, she is 35! Her hair is ebony black that runs all the way down her back. She always makes me something called a quesidilla. I like it!
Bridget: She is a 19 year old college drop out. I have no idea what she's doing here. She has brown hair that she keeps in a tight-fitting hair net.
Well that's all for now. Talk to you soon, Journal!
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