“Wealth is wasted on the rich!” Pedro sniggered, although he was quick to reap the benefits. The guests had left behind two breakfasts with the works untouched. Such brazen waste retriggered his angst. As an illegal, he could barely make the rent, let alone feed his wife and kids. He’d been a cardiologist back home, but now wiped the arses of the rich, and survived on their leftovers. It was the final blow to his dignity, but he could never go back. He might not be rich, but he’d got away from the cartel and was now his own man.
100 words PHOTO PROMPT © David Stewart
This week’s prompt is inspired by so many situations and events. However, on a personal note, while I was backpacking through Europe as a 22 year old in 1992, my friend and I were staying in a Youth Hostel in Koln (Cologne). We’d been away less than a week and were trying to make our money stretch as far as we could so we were being very frugal on the food front. That night for dinner, we invested in a punnet of strawberries, which just happened to be sour, but because we were saving our money, it was a brutal case of waste not want not, and you should’ve seen the expressions on our faces!! Meanwhile, back at the hostel, the dining room was full of German school kids on an excursion eating spaghetti bolognaise, and so many didn’t finish their meals, and I swear I could’ve licked their plates. OMG! It smelled so good.
As an Australian, I have it very good. However, a friend of mine whose parents were WWII refugees out of Poland, calls us “Luckycountrians”. That we don’t appreciate how lucky we are, or what it means to lose it all and throw your luck to the wind and start up somewhere else as a refugee.
This has been another contribution to Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wishoff Fields: https://rochellewisoff.com/2022/03/16/18-march-2022/
Many thanks and best wishes,