Free Writing 6

Living in New York continued

From the outside it looks more like a barrack. It is wooden with a 10 square yard garden. But my life hasn’t always been like this. Before my father died, my life was, well let’s say acceptable. My dad kind of was the money maker in our family. I don’t say that he was a top manager or something like that but he brought enough money in, to closely buy the rent of our apartment and the food that we needed. Yes, I said apartment, I was living in there for 11 years. As much as I see of the 15 inch TV in my neighbours cellar while working, that apartment was not the typical the dream of an average American, but compared to the house where I am living in right now there is one definite winner. Actually my dad worked in an iron-factory. They produce iron-bars made for pretty much everything on this planet. My dad drove a pallet-jack, every day 8 hours, taking the already finished iron-bars and drives them to a big truck and unloads them in its trunk. He was a nice guy, every 2^nd Wednesday we played our favourite card-game together. It was Poker. Sometimes also mom joined our match, because we annoyed her 15 minutes straight that Poker is boring with only 2 people. But back to present you will not belief what is happening right now…