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She's been homeless for 5 years. Sleeps most nights in a shelter, some on the street. Lost her part time job seven years ago, when she hurt her foot. Was making $52,000 a year, she said. This is impossible to verify, but she was very articulate and had notebooks filled with writing--mostly rambling personal and philosophical musing, but hey, I would ramble too if I've been on the streets for five years. I'm already rambling. She has two grown children in town, but she doesn't want to bother them. Some social agency promised her an apartment by May. She's counting the days, she said. "I hope they'll come through." She had two books on her, the Bible and a volume on esoteric Christian theology, expunged from the Bible. She even mentioned Macbeth during our conversation. "Can you help one Willing to be Resilient," read part of her sign. The corner where she was lying smelled like piss, though I doubt she's responsible. That corner always reeks. Having knelt to talk to this lady, I put my jeans in the wash when I got home.


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