She got in line at the soup kitchen, then walked up to the Mid-Manhattan Library on 40th Street. It was not very far from Central Park, where she knew she would end up staying under the bushes yet another night. She knew most of the street people left their bedding where they normally slept, but she never saw the sense in that. She remembered seeing the sleeping bags piled beneath underpasses throughout town when she went jogging, and always considered how some mean kids could run over and pee on them when the bums were away.
Once again the computer kiosks were all taken or reserved, and she decided to hang out and read the paper to kill time. She noticed the weary glances of the security guards around the halls, used to the sight of bums coming in to get off the street. The only thing th
