They were all wet to different degrees. Some more desperate than others...

 
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Dear Anonymous,
They were all wet to different degrees. Some more desperate than others. Some more agitated than others. What would propel them through the day? The next few moments? Not sure. But dry socks for wet feet help. A hot cup of coffee fortifies. A bite of homemade cake can help some sometimes. Some are hungry for something else and on a mission. Desperation in their quick and abrupt movements from eyes to fingertips . But what of all the thank yous? I need to convey them here to those that have helped or want to help. Each one of you. I convey the 'Good mornings!', the countless 'How are you, Joanne's?' the ' How are you doing?' from faces that smile shyly, from faces battered, cut and wounded, from black eyes and watering eyes that cannot focus, from hands that tremble ...Those are for all of us.

I have a friend. A big man with a big presence. A strong man. An intelligent man....

 
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I have a friend. A big man with a big presence. A strong man. An intelligent man. A black man. And he has to worry about walking out at night. Being stopped. Running. With a mask on. He has to rightfully and logically worry about this every day. Oh, and here's a pretty flower. Damn.