The Travel Journal of Molly Brown - Part 1

It was just another cold night for Molly Brown who's living at the moment in a spare bedroom of an abandoned mansion in 25th Street, Manhattan, New York.

She's got the room all to herself again tonight because her roommate, Diane, who probably found herself a better sleeping arrangement somewhere in the city, haven't checked in for five days now.

Molly's muddied face broke into a smile as she finds it funny how people still refer to the old mansion as abandoned when every square inch of the place has already been settled in by the homeless of Manhattan, her being one of them.

She looked around. The room used to be the mansion's breakfast nook. Molly was sure it looked modish on its heyday with the big french windows flanking both sides of the wallpapered wall and a breakfast table with a sleek long vase of roses right at the center. She can imagine just how the area rug beneath made the place warmer as one lazed on a chair sipping coffee and reading the morning paper. It reminds her of home.

Now, the room bears no trace of its previous warmth. The gaping hole in one of the windows is drawing the cold draft in, making the room feel damp; the peeling wallpaper smells like sunset drenched in alcohol - you don't know what it really smells like but you know it isn't good - it's giving Molly headache. Aside from the dirty roll-out mattress sprawled in the middle of the room where the table once where, the only other furniture her eyes caught was an old dresser with unmatching knobs and a half-stuck drawer you can never really open or close. She wouldn't be here if she had a choice, but beggars can't be choosers.

This is better than sleeping in the street outside, Molly thought.

But it wasn't always like this...

Too sleepy, will continue this tomorrow...