A few nights in the city, on the streets. 

I rarely go hungry. I do not bathe regularly, and my clothes usually reek. I hand-wash what I can, when there is a stream I jump in, and I do most of my cooking by open fires. I travel hard, and last night was a reminder of it all.

I had several wake up calls. A couple, and then a Young man walked by as I slept. I climbed as high as I could onto the Franklin Mountains, and found a slab of concrete to lay on. It was warm, and with the two foot wall near by; I had very comfortable nights rest. Minus of course, the start I had when I heard their footsteps. At the edge of sleep, I stood straight up, and in less than a second I was giving them the right of way. Short words were exchanged, and I was soon laying down once again.

The folks who strolled by lived in the nearby colonia, and my sleeping pad was on a local trail/shortcut. They apologized for waking me, and it was much appreciated. I felt welcomed, even though I was basically sleeping on the floor, like a hobo. I didn’t feel threaten and didn’t bother displacing my camp. However, I did store my pocketbook and tablet in my pack, and laid it next to me as I slept.

At 1am. I did have a false start. As I slipped into the sweet void of rest, my awareness convinced me someone else was approaching. Alike the drop you might feel during a dream, my entire body jumped. Bracing myself against the wall, I climbed up, at the ready. I looked around expecting to see a figure. But it was only the wind kicking up some dust.

After making sure my most valuable items were near me. I quickly fell asleep, and woke to a quite morning. I have to make it one more night out and about before my train arrives. Before then, I hope everything goes alright, but I doubt anything dumb will happen.

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