They live out of their 1986 Toyota Truck, She turns tricks whenever she can and he just tries to stay one deal ahead of his addiction. He can park on the busy street where there’s no parking meter and shoot up in the front seat, nobody’s paying attention. It just looks like he’s waiting for somebody and in reality, he is. Waiting for Jesus and the Rapture? Waiting for the President to send in the National Guard? Waiting for his parents to finally understand him? Waiting for his girlfriend to come back? No. He’s waiting for someone whose name he doesn’t know, whose face he’s never seen, someone whose voice he’s never heard, because believe me, he’s heard it all. He’s heard the big promises, he’s heard the great ideas, the get rich quick schemes, the sales pitch, he’s read the big book, the good book, and he’s been to the support groups, so he has no time for any of that just the needle and this strap and the smack. He can do that while he waits for something new, someone new who will say something new and do something new that will give him the reason to care. He’s waiting on forgiveness. He’s waiting to forgive himself, for all the things that led up to this moment on this block, in this truck, he’s waiting on forgiveness for all the excuses, the lies that he told himself. He waits.
And while he waits, she provides a steady income, in come the clowns looking for someone to cum in and she knows just how to play them. She doesn’t feel pretty anymore and she doesn’t think it matters she’s just creating a way to survive this world because she don’t need to feel love, she doesn’t need to remember emotion because that doesn’t work in this line of work. She doesn’t think about escaping she’s got too much to think about. She no longer wonders if she will survive she’s seen death a thousand times and now she’s never scared. Now if you ask her if she’s waiting for something she will tell you no but in reality she is. Waiting to laugh again, waiting for someone to show her some respect, and waiting for a new definition of dignity that will resonate. She’s waiting on forgiveness. Forgive her self for letting go, forgive the man who was supposed to be her shining example of what a man should be, the man who turned out to be the example of every other man she’s encountered in her life. She’s waiting for clean clothes and a hot shower but the shelter is full so as she is turned away again and people shuffle along the sidewalk averting their eyes as they pass her, she glides slowly back and forth just in front of the parked cars to avoid getting hit by oncoming traffic, as she looks through their car windows trying to catch a glance, she waits. Just down the block he’s in the front seat of their 1986 Toyota Truck slipping in and out of consciousness, he looks out of the window, and he waits.