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.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEdPwTSi8sRp-VdVHSQb_UqQPQi7EjerOuU0F4Mp-6az4moy92PT3wWqETXqh7rOaeB_Dqpti36nCJaYEm6VGs98X4A_NV9bn45hVW1LvraP01d-P-St-_hUMAOCZzsyCzAx508yaGIQeu/s320/empty-street.jpg)
There was such a rare relief of being unanchored in the world.
Then she sat down.
And watched.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ_1NeHTKNy3B2M5lYPkRosQskSNYPf9SZgspLp4UqL3qBLhulML-fLxHqJ-8xmeL6X63EEJQd4St9EMZ9IQledI9OWAjRHmUFA5FILMpyrP1aYIJm-J7WBrPDh0buJJRFec48I7zi6fNf/s320/empty+-+lady7final.jpg)
And when she got up I wondered if she too felt a relief or, like me 30 years ago, yearned for an anchor.