The Road to an Island of Solace
/Guest writer was homeless and out and about around the Conejo Valley at the time he wrote this. He has since regained his footing and is doing great.
Today after wrestling with the cold all night inside my van, I woke up tired at the crack of light. I grow more and more impatient with my homelessness. My tears again are a simple reminder that I’m still alive. My schedule will first take me to McDonald’s, where I will enjoy a dollar coffee, free Wi-Fi and where I’ll wait until I have to go to work. I have little money, and less gasoline to keep my 4-wheel home moving. My on-going battle with a head-cold has left me congested, and my energy level has yet to return to normal.
Lately the cold, wet weather has interfered with what work I am blessed with, and as a result at times I sometimes feel miserable. In a number of stories that I’ve written recently, I’ve expressed a increasing level of unhappiness with my life, and my homelessness. I’m reminded of Viggo Mortensen from the movie “The Road”, a post-apocalyptic tale of a man and his son trying to survive by any means possible. Like Viggo, I want a clear course but have no map that will lead me to any island of solace.
An older gentleman sitting a few tables away glances over, and kindly asks me