Dear Anonymous,
He had a bed last night at a shelter but got thrown out defending another guy, which likely appeared as the beginning of a fight to the monitors. So, they were escorted out. He slept on top of a heating grate in some hidden corner of the city. Well, didn't sleep, but he also didn't freeze. The guy he was defending went off to drink with a buddy at the edge of the wharf.
So, he is tired and cranky and cold and wet. All his clothing soaked.
A blanket helped. Dry socks. A hot coffee. A new day.
This morning I hear the friction out here between people with different ways. Different values. Everyone out here is in it together in some ways, but the relationships are brittle too. Sometimes corrosive. Sometimes they are deeply caring.
Like life is. All that and more.
One man has gone through 6 or 7 backpacks. He gets one. He drinks. He loses backpack. Gets new backpack. Drinks. Loses backpack. Gets new backpack. Drinks. Loses backpack.Gets new backpack. Repeat, ad infinitum. Everyone around him can connect the dots but the dots to him are ephemeral, maybe meaningless, non-existent if they were not so pesky.