Street Desk

Tien sat at her desk, staring into the sky.

Her desk used to be indoors. But as the market crashed once more, and she lost everything, she sold what wasn’t of value. First her books. Then her clothes. Then her house.

She needed the desk though. She had nowhere else to write her letters, and the pavement just wouldn’t do.

So, sitting in the alleyway, at her desk, Tien put discarded ketchup packet to boxboard, writing a heartfelt birthday greeting to her mother. She would beg for a stamp on the street letter; now, she needed to word the card just right, to send her love.