The Empathetic

The Empathic Homeless, faceless... they walk our streets, yours, mine, ours. Their families have forgotten them, they don't want to go home, or they can't. Where do the "people" go, where there is nowhere else to be? The heat rises here in the desert. It melts the sidewalks in the afternoon, they only re-solidify after dark. Those trapped on the surfaces in between are often cooked, and burnt. Water is the gift of life. It comes in bottles passed out by the caring, daring to make a difference, at least for a day. Later when the world turns cold, they will be gone. They will not be back. For now, there are 200 beds, opened up downtown. Yet there are a thousand people in the line. Pray.