Beautiful People

by Robert Fenhagen (USA)


“How does it feel to be one of the beautiful people?”

Thinking back, and remembering the Beatles’ song from back in the day, was one of the ways that he spent his endless hours, playing it over and over again in his mind as he wandered the filthy streets of Philadelphia; the words in his memory sang in the falsetto:  

“How does it feel to be one of the buu-tee-full pee-pull?  What did you see when you were there?  Nothing that doesn’t show…..” 

    Passing by the ally, he wandered into it — passing three dented and stinking trash cans, one dead cat and one dead rat.

He felt dead himself.

He was not one of the beautiful people; he couldn’t be, could he?

He kicked an empty can of Brown’s Baked Beans, and it ricocheted off a blackened, dirty red brick wall, eventually rolling  back, and coming to rest against a rotten stalk of celery that was providing nutrition for a healthy white grub worm, which was being watched by a hawk flying overhead.

The grub contracted violently at the clanging can, but after a moment stretched out and continued, never realizing that it was doomed. 

    A maggot ran out and scurried away. 

 ‘Good riddance’ He thought.

He had watched the white worm contract, but soon relax. 

    Leaning down, he plucked it up and brought it to his face to look closer, and then put it back.  

The hawk noticed.

Beautiful People

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