13
Eric was sitting in the passenger side of Terri’s burgundy four-door sedan. As usual, she drove and Eric searched the streets, seeking out all the people walking by. He had begun to notice the homeless more and more every day they’d been out searching for his wife. They pulled in beside an older red brick building. There was concrete everywhere, covered in graffiti, and a large dumpster at the edge of an alley was full of garbage.
She parked in front of the building, taking the only empty spot. The homeless pushed carts, and some were huddled in the corner while others stepped up the concrete stairs from the basement. They wore lots of worn layers and mismatched clothes, all trudging around and looking defeated.
“So, what stop is this?” he asked, opening the door as she lifted her ke
