One Man's Trash ~ Tsiuri&Revel

Drunk people talk.

Drunk people talk a lot.

Everyday when I clock into work, I leave a little bit wiser on the infidelities and indiscretions of those drinking away their woes. They spill their guts out, lacking the understanding that I am the one who calls their wives when they are too drunk to get home on their own. I probably went to school with their children. I know the people that could use this information the most, and a drunk person would never understand just how dangerous it is to give it all up for free. Not in this economy.

That is what made my encounter with Revel all that more interesting.

I have had many of people, specifically those that fell into the before mentioned categories, interrogate me on the confidential maters I am privileged to. It was odd that someone with no connection whatsoever was curious about something. I did not usually encourage meddling in the business of strangers, in my own experience it hardly led to any good. However, Revel was not someone I thought would act out of malintent and I was a pretty damn good judge of character.

Although district eleven was not particularly small, there were aspects of day-to-day life that made it feel like nothing short of a village. One of those was the way everyone knew each other; we were all connected through at least one person or one shared experience. I was amongst those that never completed their education. Every one of us had their reasoning to back out of school. Like many mine was the general poverty of the district and my family. Although my parents did their best to provide, we came from a long line to dropouts. A vicious cycle of too poor to afford life if everyone did not pull their weight leading to not one family member completing education in order to pull us out of our unfortunate socioeconomic status.

I was not aware of what Revel’s reasoning was, it was considerate rude to ask. Our mutual life paths did not automatically make us friends, I did not have many of those. Who can afford friends when they can hardly afford to eat. Still, I would call us friendly acquaintances. We did not have full fledged conversations and we most definitely did not ask for favors. The events that would unfold throughout the day would have never even crossed my mind in a million years.

Yet here we are. Let’s go back to the beginning.

I exited my house on the warm summer afternoon with my mind far adrift as I tried to dissociate from the world in order to prepare myself for another day of towing the line. Lost in a mindless state, I almost ran into the person waiting for me in front of the dirt filled courtyard leading up to my house.

”Oh my-, Sorry I wasn’t really paying attention to where I was going.” I apologized.