There is a chill this night of forty eight degrees inside the hollow shell of a structure that I once called my home. Void of personal trappings, it carries an echo within its walls as I shut the door behind me. A small radiator heats the chosen chamber that I take respite in. Anticipation of a warmer stay prompted my journey here where instead I find an icy visitor is my house guest. I am quite alone here as the convenience of automated companionship was traded for rations of food and fuel. Although both are meager it is slight enough to sustain me.
The days are long and constructed of moments where each member of my body screams for deliverance. Sleep is a stranger that visits occasionally and I miss the absences of pain when it comes to call. I long to have a dream, a purpose and a venue to perform my healing work for in this I find great joy. I am grateful for the guidance that has kept me safe thus far, family and friends have catered to my needs an offered me shelter and a helping hand.
Life plays itself out on a voyage not of my choosing in which I find my strength tasked mind and body. Tests will be put forth for me this day, which will I pass and which will I fail? Those that I pass will gift me with currency in which I can trade for goods and services. Should I fail; the choices in my life will be limited to the very kindness of others. Though one of my greatest joys is to give, receiving will become a means to endure what is left of my existence. A somber tone hangs in the air as the words make themselves present in my mind. I write them down as they are the keeper of all I wish to convey, on this night of forty eight degrees.
– Susan Kubert
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