Dear Anonymous,
The young man arrives with only a long sleeve tshirt on. He's cold. We set him up with thermal layers, a hooded sweatshirt. He is calmer. Warmer. He takes a blanket (all of this thanks to Dear Anonymous). Coffee cake is shared all around. Banana Bread too. I ask permission to photograph and he volunteers and somehow transforms in that second, that fraction of a second, revealing some tender underbelly best not to show too much on the street, I assume.
There is tension between two others close by. Alliances between another two.
One man, who I see often, is so completely dispirited and confides that he is riding his bike to Auburn, about 40 miles away. He has found a place to stay for 300.00 a month. 'I just can't handle the street no more.' The look in his eyes, the gesture of his body tells me he is nearing the end of a frayed rope and that I hope he is right and can land a place to rest. We get him an extra pair of socks for the journey. A coffee card. Another piece of cake.