The Writer VIIII

Walking down Canal Street at 4am may not have been the best idea but it didn't feel too bad, other than looking creepy and witnessing poverty at its saddest.  It reminds me of the time Dan and I were in Chicago and I can clearly remember the day I started caring about the homeless population on a large scale and not just in my city.  We were walking under a bridge and there were a few people sleeping under a blanket and I could see a little set of feet peeking out.  My heart immediately clenched and my eyes filled with tears, not just for the child but the entire family that was fighting to stay together at all costs and I wonder how they fell through the system.  Canal Street was similar but different, to this day, years later, I still look for little feet...I never want to be desensitized and I always want to buy them dinner.

The coolness of my room was shocking and wonderful.  I brushed my teeth, washed my face and fell asleep to traffic...