No amount of soul searching would fix my past. There was no magical Band-Aid I could stick on my heart, no special glue I could use to make myself whole again. I had shattered to pieces like a fragile vase on concrete; some fragments could be roughly cobbled back together, but many of my vital parts had simply turned to dust, pulverized and scattered by scattered by the first gust of wind.
I got up from the chair and stood in front of full length mirror and saw myself in the mirror and I look perfect and I grab an hand bag and glasses and put on a pair of sneakers and made out of the room.
I took stairs and went down to the kitchen because I was starving. As I step inside of the kitchen.My nostrils filled with different aroma of the food.The windows in the soup kitchen are never opened,
