Finally 30 years later I could drift, however temporary it might be, without terror of unemployment, without a frantic search for something or someone to grab onto, without fear of shattering in eviction and homelessness.
Instead, sitting in the front window of a "European" fast food place I pondered the truism "the secret is in the sauce" because the only thing making it possible to chew and swallow the veggie hot dog was the relish, ketchup and mustard.
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There was such a rare relief of being unanchored in the world.
Then she sat down.
And watched.
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And when she got up I wondered if she too felt a relief or, like me 30 years ago, yearned for an anchor.