Monday, January 4, 2016
Down and Out in Tucson
Money was a problem, and there wouldn't be any relief until Monday, three days away. He didn't have enough for food, or smokes, or brew. The smokes were the worst of it right now. He didn't know what to do with his hands when the craving grew like a winding serpent in his gut. He knew he could beg, and people were still surprisingly generous when it came to that. But begging gnawed at him almost as much as the craving for cigarettes. What had happened and how did he get here he wondered. That one followed him around like a hungry dog that made him mad enough to profane the sky. He woke himself in the dead of night shouting at God. It got to be too much sometimes and he knew that he was done, done with all of it. This world was just too full of misery to keep on. Apologies, rationalizing, lies only made it worse. Advice he could give, but wouldn't listen to. At least it was warm enough in the sun on this loveliest of days. Yeah right. But rain was coming. Cold too. He had no idea what would happen next. If only he had a smoke. That would help dull the cutting edge of this harsh moment.