The unshaven homeless man unscrewed the top off his bottle of whisky which was nearly empty and drank greedily. He pushed his thick dark-brown hair to the side, giving the passing woman a splendour making her walk faster away from him. He took another(prenominal) tipple and returned the bottle to the pocket of his torn leather come on which he had on. To the people around who saw docking facility Russel he was a bum, a piece of trash in society, and what they didnt last was Bob was a normal person fairish identical them. Just six short months ago he was a successful journalist for the Sunday Times with a amply paying salary, a large house, two sumptuosity cars and a loving wife and a child. That seemed like a great time ago and Bob dreamt of having it again. He couldnt stop thinking about that night when he and his family were on the path locomotion back from a family gathering, when out of no where it came out of no where. The equipage trailer had vee personnel casualty across the other side of the roadway and destroyed his life. He survived but to him he didnt take it as granted, as he blamed himself for the death of his wife and daughter.
If upstanding he had taken more time fitting the hood rack; if only he had put in a litre more of petrol, he would have missed it, if only. Bob looked desire he was like twenty five years old. The cause of sleepless nights and alcohol abuse being creditworthy for the severe blue black bags beneath his blood red eyes. This erstwhile young and happy face had been changed by a semi trailer, which had gate-crashed his at one time normal life. Bob was now unemployed, his onc! e buxom house had... If you want to get a secure essay, run it on our website: BestEssayCheap.com
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