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Utopian Turtletop. Monsieur Croche's Bête Noire. Contact: turtletop [at] hotmail [dot] com
Friday, January 26, 2007
We decided that the figure wrapped tight in a blanket lying in the backseat of the car must have been a woman, because the blanket was more brightly colored than most men would choose, and because there was a bottle of lotion on the back window sill of the car. Most men don't care about their dry skin.
We wouldn't even have noticed her, parked on the side street under the bright light, except that we were looking in all the cars as part of the one-night street-count of the homeless.
Parked under the bright light for safety.
Time for bed. Home, bed, roof, blankets. Stupefyingly sorrowful that we must count these as blessings.
We wouldn't even have noticed her, parked on the side street under the bright light, except that we were looking in all the cars as part of the one-night street-count of the homeless.
Parked under the bright light for safety.
Time for bed. Home, bed, roof, blankets. Stupefyingly sorrowful that we must count these as blessings.
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