![]() I put in my ear plugs and take out a book from my milk crate. They are fighting with their flashlights. ![]() A flashlight beam shines across my wall, and then another beam crosses in the other direction. Then one of them stumbles over the guyline that holds out the corner of my rain fly. I try to set boundaries for myself, like: I won’t freak out unless they touch my tent. I try to work through math problems in my head but am continually distracted. ![]() He spends the nights outside the fence, ignoring the awful sounds that come from within our borders. When the tent city opened in January of last year they had a day guard, a night guard, and a social worker from the Poverello Center. The overnight security guard, Sean, has stopped enforcing the rules. Quiet hours in the tent city are from 10pm to 6am, but the tweakers don’t care. I can hear him opening and closing zippers, and she’s whispering at him and getting angry. The tweakers who live in the tent next door are looking for something. Featured Art: Static and Distance by John Sabraw
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |