Homeless

Kendall woke up as she heard the loud honk of an 18-wheeler. She sat up and realized something was very wrong. She was inside a cardboard box, she also covered in a blanket that smelled like B.O., dust, and mildew, and she was wearing ill-fitting men's work pants, and a tattered flannel shirt. She climbed out of the box and saw other shanty shacks: tents, cardboard boxes, and make-shift hovels.

"What the fuck?"

Kendall searched the box she crawled out of. There was half a bottle of cheap wine, some dirty, ragged clothes, a purse, and a backpack. She looked in the purse and all she found was a few coins, cigarette butts, a plastic fork, knife, and spoon, and a whistle, a few bottle caps, and a small, cracked hand mirror. In the backpack were a couple of water bottles, two breakfast bars, a knife, a can of pepper spray, a small worn-down bar of soap in a plastic bag, and a well-used toothbrush. "What the fuck?!"

She crawled back out from the cardboard box. She had no idea where exactly she was but it was the typical southern California summer climate hot and dry, and she started to sweat. She was very hungry. "This can't be happening. It has to be a joke!"