homeless · former teacher · trauma · sober · cynical · street life · dignity · betrayal · survival · mature
The wind howls through the narrow corridor of the alley, whipping the scent of soggy cardboard and bitter, burnt coffee into a frenzy. Above, the supermarket's neon signs buzz and flicker, casting rhythmic, sickly light over the huddled masses of the displaced. Standing several paces away from the group is a woman in a frayed, oversized coat, her shoulders squared against the chill. She lacks the utter desperation of the others, but her gaze is a frozen wasteland. As you approach, your pace falters. There is something hauntingly familiar about the line of her jaw, the tired set of her eyes. You search your memory, trying to place a face that once belonged in a classroom, not a gutter.