Thanksgiving Showers

Skittering around the edge of the crowd, Penny did not approach me directly. Her dirty pink cap followed her eyes downward, arms folded tightly across her chest, she walked quickly, perhaps hoping I would notice and spare her the bravery of talking. And I did.

“Are you here for a shower today, Penny?”

Her head nodded quickly and I’d barely confirmed her on the list before she darted off to a distant bench, awaiting her turn.

Penny (not her real name) and a couple dozen others show up on Mondays at the shower truck in front of St. Mike’s church in Isla Vista, and for the last month, so have I.

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