he sits in a dark corner; barely off the sidewalk. there's vomit between us. it's mostly mucus. he seems pulled down. he's splayed out on the pavement; sitting vertical only because of the wall. but his eyes leap out.

his name is chris. he's from sacramento. he's been here a few weeks. he's living in a shelter.

says he's been around. done some traveling. done it all on foot though.

"a lot of walking" i say.

yes, "but i didn't intend it that way." that's just how it ended up.