211

 "There's also a lot of plays to be made around town, but they need legs, which I can't use anymore, says Mike, as he sits on his couch drinking 211.  Mike has a long history of being homeless, and although ...'damn, that was just like some tasteless goo, and you were stuffing your face like there was no tomorrow" says Mike to Amber.  Amber tends to eat a lot.  She's in a trance some of the time, or carries on dialogues with spirits we can't see.  Mike and Amber go back a number of years at the Julian hotel, downtown, and now they are both living here.  "Will Fred Meyer cash a $100 bill" says Mike, because he's always getting in some kind of trouble.  Somehow he's been kicked out of the local 7-11.  I got kicked out of there too, and it's been a trying circumstance for me.

Whatever.  Life goes on.  People try to figure things out.  Jesse goes on about angels and demons and how great his hiphop tracks are.

Sometimes I think I can see what no one else does, and then other days it seems that i have not an idea in the world, sort of like Mission in the Rain, by Jerry Garcia.

Mike stumbles around to do some great big move, like maybe get up from his chair.  Amber stands in the corner, stuck in her trance.  Jesse is humming along to one of his hiphop tracks.  I wonder where all this is going.  Maybe next month there will be nobody living here.  But I'm not getting any younger, and I have no money.  Still, if we wait all day, will it not be worth the wait if we detect some trace of the ineffable?

Amber fidgets in the corner.  Jesse is smoking on a cigarette.  I wonder what my crazy mind may bring to the next days, and try not to regret the lost chances or failed opportunities of the past.