.033 day 23

meet lamont. libra born. philly raised. spanish, black and caucasian mixed. drunk off cheap beer, sitting in corner store, charging up busted phone...alone. asked me for my number, i declined. asked me for a light, i had none. asked me for 'just a moment of my time', and that i freely shared. 

spoke of his recent divorce, the loss of his home and of the justice system dictating his right to parent. of his sons, nine and eleven, getting caught between the cross-fire, of how without them in his life, his world meaning nothing, and cheap beer and stale smokes, now everything. professed his unwavering faith in the power of love and how deeply saddened he was when he found his wife to be a non-believer. of wanting nothing more than to abandon his high and get lifted off of love again. 

asked me did i believe (i do), have i ever felt it (i have) and would i do anything in my power to keep it (i will). the last of his beer, gone, he thanked me for listening and i thanked him for talking, as he stumbled up to the window to elevate his low-lying high...