Restless nobodies

Shitbag Henry had so many charges against him that the police system couldn’t account for them anymore. At 999 he had reached his peak. Now he walks the streets of Glebe with shit in his bag.
His brain so fried up from life’s hard knocks his world is his own. He never really bothers anybody. Doesn’t mean to anyway. Occassionally his ‘fuck off’s would offend and that’s when the police would have to step in.
He did that once. Shouted it out at a bus driver while waving his dirty fingernail. The police picked him up in their panel van and dropped him off at Surry Hills.
They had no other place to put him.
You’ll see Rambling Rose meandering through the streets of Marrickville, shuffling on a train or standing still in Burwood. With bandaged arms she may ask you if the bandages are tight enough. You just have to say yes. She’d appreciate that.
“Rambling Rose is the name they gave me,” she told me while we were waiting for the Bankstown train at Redfern. “I like my walks they make me feel good. I’m no good for standing still,” she said.
Opening a wallet filled with $50 dollars she asked me if she owed me money. I said no and she placed it back into her rose coloured bag.
Unamed man walks with a pose fit for begging. With his right arm stretched and his hand cupped out, means he doesn’t have to make an effort when he asks you for some change.
One Sunday he walked into St Brigid’s during the 6pm mass and placed his hand into one of the church money bags. He saw the crucified Christ, placed it back into the bag and shuffled out. I don’t think Christ would have minded if he helped himself to the change.