He thought about the laundromat he used to sleep behind. That place had always smelled like soap and warm steam. Now, there was a new sign in the window: “Help Wanted – Temporary Position.” It wasn’t much. But even a day’s work meant food, or maybe more.
Joshua knew how these things worked. He couldn’t walk in looking like this—not if he wanted to be taken seriously. He needed to be presentable. And more importantly, he needed a phone number and an address. He didn’t have either. Still, something told him he had to try.