It’s 6:30am, 47 degrees, and dark.
A man seated on the curb at the corner, vacant eyed. Not even holding a sign. Just sitting there staring off into the distance. His hands dirty and swollen.
We’re all in a place aren’t we?
Circumstances are given, and also taken away.
Sometimes we have a bed to sleep on,
Sometimes we’re sitting on the curb all night in the cold.
