The sky was grey, foggy, and miserable. It had snowed the day before, but more often it rained, no matter how cold it was. James had liked his old life back in his homeland, but his family would not have it. There was so much death all around them, a change of scenery would be good for them. James didn’t know much about it, but they were also pressed for money, and they longed to start a new life in the promised land. As such, James looked around the empty room that was to be his in the little apartment. They had moved to the dirtiest slum New York had to offer, but since there were only his parents and his grandmother left, he would get his own room. It was really just an oversized closet with a window on the wall. There was room only for the small bed, a wire construct with a dirty mattress atop, that could be folded up against the wall. Over the head of the bed hung an old cracked portrait of the Virgin Mother, and a little metal crucifix hung on a necklace from the corner of the bed.
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