stopping to cross the road i recognized a junkie staggering towards me as a girl with whom i had once sat at bars and talked and laughed her childish face and cheeks dimpled and sucked out by heroin. a mere figment of people and places past. like watching my youth become old and ravaged and tired as it makes its way across this grey wasteland.
"i should have been a pair of ragged claws scuttling across the floors of silent seas" T.S. Eliot.