Recovery

J. approached the microphone, prepared to address the day’s volunteers. A gray shirt, he had been a successful alumnus of the program. Stepping out of the shade he became blinded by the midday sun. Then, his spiel: the drive to California; living out of his car; totaling the car; becoming addicted to meth; bouncing around dens; hard sleeping; finding the center; starting the program. He thanked the founder of the program, and explained the job placement and apartment placement process. He was two years clean. The sunlight in his eyes prevented him from making eye contact with any of the volunteers, upper-middle-class office workers. He considered it a blessing that he could speak freely without judgment.

No. 082

In Audience

Two girls stood in audience of a man on the outdoor patio of a coffee shop in Los Feliz. He played guitar and sang, while a shallow fence separated him from them on the sidewalk. The guitar was decorated in a pine wreath. The man’s voice was hard and gruff, work-worn and in concert with a grizzled beard and the dirt-streaked skin of the unhoused. I had to excuse myself as passing the girls, so focused on the performance they didn’t realize they blocked the sidewalk.

No. 002