By the time I return the little homeless girl has nodded out, asleep on her dirty blonde dreads touching her sign: Homeless, anything helps.
Obese family to one side, twelve chins between three people, eating Entenmann's, passing soda bottles. Dad pushes a stroller holding purses and food. When they go they leave their donut box for the little junkie.
Busking girl singer to the other side, guitar and sweet vibrato. There are diamonds in the sky-y-y. But you will reap just what you sow. Earns applause and tips from a gray haired man with shades, and from your author, a white haired man with shades. The homeless girl sleeps.
Foreign tourists ask for directions, but, I don't know.
Where do we come from? What are we? Where are we going?