Janus

I was maroon mass flesh wrapped in a cheap coat bounding my way through the streets of Portland. My take-out dinner was silenly cooling in a plastic bag.

As I passed a homeless couple, sitting on the streets in the wet twilight, I heard a voice. The male said, "Care to spare some change?" I ignored him; I hated to. If they only knew how thin my margin of error was. The fact that by opening my purse I'd reveal to be one of those privilaged members of society with a wallet brimming with high-limit credit cards. I had worked for years to reach my goals, and my leeway shrank just months away from a 20 year goal.

The female, in a smaller, more distant voice said imploringly, "Have a heart."

Something equally small and forlorn said, When I have one, I'll let you know.

Something horrible and twisted inside of me smiled.