this morning #339.

this morning, through foggy dawn eyes, he peeked out through the blinds & into the alley, checking to see if anyone had slept out there last night. his building was off the main drag, bordered by a row of douglas firs and, as the economy had tanked, a couple had taken to taking shelter there. for the last week though, they’d been absent. he found himself waking up every single morning hoping for their return, wondering what had become of them, wishing he had at least gone out & introduced himself, got their contact info. instead, he had laid in bed observing their morning ritual from afar. if they ever returned, he swore that he’d actually offer them help.