THE WEAVE:

Lilith waits out the rain

under the pagoda of a historic

old theatre, with a houseless person,

called Mike, "Do you know
what an apartment goes for,
around here, Lilith?"

"Too much," Lilith replies,
"I moved in with a friend
in perfect timing.  I do not
know why I live here.  I got
lucky.  But there are still
all inclusive,
big, old, beautiful
studios, in the heart
of the city for 900,
if you are willing to live
amongst the chaos for a while,
while you feel into what is
next.  That's what I did."

"Around these parts, I keep
seeing people driving Teslas,
and the wait-list for affordable
housing, is 1-2 years."

"It is fucked here, 
Mike.  What do you like 
to do?"  Lilith ask him.

"I liked graphic design,
and making signs, but
I drowned, in the pandemic.
I sleep here, because
it is quiet."

"I get that.
I lived in my truck,
in the desert, for the first 
4 months of the year."

"In a pandemic?  
That is ballsy.
Weren't you scared?"

She smiles at the age-old
question, shaking her head,
"No, I was not scared.
I was wise
with my energy, and I was
safer there, than anywhere."

"How did you end up here?"

"This city is a Bermuda triangle
I get sucked into every few years.
I have friendships here. I stayed
a week, and let it evolve,
accepting and shaping things 
as they come, and for Now 
I am just Here."

She offers him a job,
"We are hiring, for the winter
season,"  she tells him, but
he declines.
"Lots of people offer me
jobs, but it is too exhausting, 
to work, not knowing where 
I'll lay my head, each night,
or where my food is
coming from."

"Come to the market, on Sunday,
I'll make you a crepe, on me."

"Okay, I will, thanks Lilith."

"I'll keep an ear out 
for you, Mike."

The rain has stopped.

She leaves.