Morning: I am lying on my stomach. I open my eyes and watch the mud and water running past my face. If I don’t move too much, my torso, at least, stays warm.
When there’s enough daylight, I struggle down the mountainside and phone another friend who invites me over to her apartment. When she goes off to work she lets me sleep on her rug where I am most comfortable—I don’t sleep in beds any more..
When she returns in the evening she fixes me a large pan of fried chicken for dinner. When she serves the food I am almost overcome with emotion. It’s all for me. I have seen too much poverty and weirdness. These normal things in these normal surroundings are almost more than I can bear. I guess I am experiencing a little of what a soldier returning from a combat zone feels.
Maybe “earthprobe” was my Viet Nam.
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