Expressions Journal, Winter 2001-Fall 2002
I was living in a state of what some people, what I myself, call a state of home-deficiency. That meant that, at night, instead of lying on a second hand bed, on a second hand mattress, trying for half an hour to find a position that wasn’t painful, a position where the spring coils didn’t jab me in the thigh—instead of sleeping in a room disconnected from the truth outside, I had the entire city as sleeping ground.
