I saw her again, this time standing on the sidewalk, no bags, or cart or anything to own. I recognized her face, though she is only a stranger. Everything else had been washed out, empty of any other kind of existence. I wanted to run up to her, grab her by the hand and to tell her the good news; your face, it’s still recognizable! But she would’ve thought me crazy. So I kept walking, with all four dollars in my wallet.
Tag: homelessness
Hope At Least
As you sit there watching the homeless man with carpet padding scarfed around his neck draping down to his feet flip through a magazine he dug out of a trash can, leaning against the trash can, legs crossed, you think: at least there’s always hope. . .
