thursday afternoon

He called and asked me to show him around and I was happy to oblige. We talked and he asked good questions, curious and unfamiliar. We walked the building and he's quiet, polite to those we pass. I can't read him, I can't tell if this is horrible or painful or what the hell, maybe it's boring. When we finish we are standing in the sun. A question, he says. I turn and wait. I mean, this is....where is the dignity? Is this the best...is this the best we can do?

I know he's not talking about my work but the reason my work exists, the walking wounded lining the fence watching us right now. It's hard to wrap your head around, isn't it? I tilt my face towards the sky I mean, it's really some kind of bullshit, people having to survive like this. It's the worst kind of bullshit I know. He doesn't expect that, we don't know each other and until now I've been keeping it on the level. I can see he's been affected by his visit and yet I don't know what that means. I've just never thought of it like this, he says.

And that's the problem in general, I say and touch his arm gently and we look at each other still two strangers and yet maybe somehow not but it's too soon to tell.

It's not for everyone, this.