The Sand Box in Surf City

George sits at the bus stop, across from the match box, his hot apartment. He knows the heat and toxic air inside will kill him, so at six o'clock he waits for his bus. It will take him to another box, this one of sand in  Slurp City.  
   Into his nap sack he packed two chicken sandwiches, the remains of the chicken he ate last night. He packed two chicken sandwiches for lunch at sat at the bus stop. It felt good to be at the top of the mountain and look down at the world. The full moon was at nine o'clock which reminded him that the planet Mars could be seen the night before,  but he was too tired from the miserable heat of the night to view it. 
   The bus stops and he enters. As usual, about thirty Vietnamese Boat People have taken every seat. he puts on his ear plugs as the jabbering little  people have a nasal quality to their high pitches. Each jockey wears large brim hats along with smiling faces. They go to where I go, the Sand Box in Slurp City. 
    He feels so good he decides not to take the bus but use his legs for the A.A. meeting just south of the Waterfront Hotel. As always he worries that his state check comes on time since the managemen company hits him with a late fee and two days later a notice to quit the apartments. 
    Like the two thousand homeless who live in Skid Row Los Angeles, he is one check away from the streets. Slurp City should have laws that can cushion the blows of the parsimonious owners and have rent control along with longer periods for payments. But he has no control as he made his bed and must now sleep in it. 
    At least he has made it to the top of the mountain and soon will be seventy nine years old. Like his brother said the other day, his higher power is living each day to the fullest, and he does. His brother is doing quite well now that he can hear and see. On Saturday when he brought him a steak, He had to bowls of oat meat and a tall cup of hot chocolate. 
    "George, a good looking blond leads me around often and Jessie takes good care of me. I don't need you so have a good day."

He reaches where the A.A, meeting is held. The meetings are powerful and he enjoys listening to those who have conquered their depression by using the twelve steps. He is early so he sits in the sand to read his old British Illustrated magazine. He reads the section on Hogarth, a great artist and eats one of his sandwiches.
    About thirty people show up to these meetings and he always feels mentally nourished afterwards he does not share. He dis a hole in the sand and puts away problems that he no longer can control and covers them up.
    It might be eighty degrees in the downtown library in Slurp City but he doesn't mind, you see, George is at the Top of the Mountain and can now watch those who try to climb it. He may not have the ten commandments but he can appreciate his higher power, the ability to enjoy each day.