Poor Man's Novels & Stories

Sukesi only survived one day in the hospital. Hartono came from a poor family, while Sukesi came from a wealthy family. He didn't have the money to pay for the hospital and funeral expenses for his wife. The man had asked for help from his in-laws, but they instead cursed him and said that Hartono had caused Sukesi's death. In his desperation, Parto came with an offer. He gave a loan of ten million with the condition that Hartono had to pay three times the amount after the due date. Parto gave him five years.

Edmond grabbed a seat and sat close to Jameson speaking to his face. The smell of his breath was not very appealing. It was like his attitude. Well, Jameson had always known. Edmond had a bad breath. Edmond began to tell Jameson a story. He spoke of a poor boy who had grown up in a very poor area, where he had seen firsthand the effect of poverty on people's lives. This boy had always dreamed of being rich and having all the luxuries in life that wealth could bring.

The kind of place where dreams die and people do whatever they can to survive—just like we’ve been forced to do. Everyone here is poor—in fact, so poor that most of us can’t even afford a good 32-inch television. Everything we have and call a good TV is an old-fashioned set on a shelf or stool with a long antenna on top. It’s a far cry from the life we once had and from the luxury that was ripped away.

His assets were gone, and he was buried in debt. As for Susan, the gentle facade had long since vanished. What remained was a woman on the verge of hysteria. "They fight almost every day. Susan yells at Harold for being useless, and the two of them are constantly at each other's throats. The neighbors upstairs and downstairs have filed multiple complaints." My expression remained unchanged. I couldn't help but wonder if Harold's downfall was, at least in part, a form of silent revenge against Susan. Honestly, even if he left with nothing, he should have been able to make a comeback given his skills.

I muttered under my breath, my fist clenching clutching onto the fabric of my cheap chiffon dress as I stared at the picture again. He was indeed curled up in the arms of another woman while I was being forced to make a hard decision. Why did I think that a wealthy billionaire like him would choose a poor woman like me with nothing to her name? He’d promised me a lifetime of love, peace and happiness with him, but instead, he inflicted me with pain and despondence. How was I to take care of this child on my own?

In their eyes, being poor was a crime. Poor meant you'd sell your soul for money. Poor meant you had no morals. Poor meant your heart was as poisonous as a snake's. "Mrs. Tyson, you have quite the imagination," I said. "But maybe you should focus on figuring out where your daughter actually went, instead of making baseless attacks on my character."

I wanted something sweet to drink, or just water. I went to find the suitcase I'd left by the tent flap. The second my eyes reached it, I had to laugh. Everything was scattered, clothes flung across the ground. As for food, it was long gone. A month ago I was a rich man's wife who never lifted a finger. A month later I was in this hellhole, and even the pajamas I'd packed to sleep in had vanished. Besides my phone, all I had was the clothes on my back.

“ Pardon me, I am just desperate, I'm in need of your help.” “ Are you here to beg for food ? Beg for job ? Or truly rent this expensive hall ?” “ I'm doing none of that, I'm only here to beg for one thing, if you can do that I will be very grateful to you sir.” The man ran his tongue along his teeth, “ Then tell me, aside for money what do you want ?” “ I might dressed like someone who is poor, I'm not poor sir. Money is not my problem, I'm loaded. If you need any amount, I will gladly send it.”

After paying fees for the 1st two semesters, now he didn't have any savings on his sleeve. Last week when Michael's grandmother got ill, he had no money to buy prescribed medicines for her. As a poor guy who wears old clothes in such a college, obviously he didn't have a single friend. Despite nobody ever wanting to be friends, he always tried to help everyone in academics as he was god in study. yet because of his poverty these rich students kept distance from him when it comes to friendship.

Jane didn't even realize that the person standing in front of him was way out of her league. "Yeah. You are beside me, and I don't care about the people who were talking behind my back. They don't care about my life, they only cared about how much money I can make," Paul muttered as he glanced over the side of his feet. He sighed as Jane realized how thoughtful must it have been for her to meet someone like Paul over the months she had been so lonely at school. She didn't know that she would meet someone who as humble as he is. Paul was not boastful about his money, he was not even showing off what he can buy, he was not even saying that he had the upper class whereas Jane was still dragged