The Leaving

I’m leaving my box. The weather is good and the nights warm. The recent storm has passed and its time to go. Years ago, I traveled some. Not a lot, but I’ve been to places like the Grand Canyon and Locust Grove, Georgia. After spending the majority of the last 10 years in Mobile and most of that under the I-10 freeway in various boxes, I am leaving. The meatloaf at the soup kitchen isn’t worth staying for, anyway.

I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m leaving to see the country and meet people who don’t get their meals from a bottle of Mad Dog. I’ve got 34 dollars and 79 cents from panhandling and a half a pack of cigarettes.