It is late Thursday night, deep inside the safe walls of downtown Seattle the homeless are hunkered together in cackling filthy clusters, gnashing their teeth, shuffling jagged needles around and counting the days’ change over a garbage fueled barrel fire. The wind lashes through their back-alley strongholds whipping their weathered faces, whistling through toothless gums and crooked leers. One particularly filthy and drunken member of this villainous troupe snarls at the fire and lurches into the bitter night to find a truck to shelter himself from Natures rage.  He stumbles down 6th to catch the bus to Alki…
Far outside of these walls is a motorhome, a motorhome of Doom. Black against the enraged night and tucked into what can only be described as a warm vagina of trees,  it cannot be seen but for the kind  glow of lights against the snowy gale. Inside sits a man alternating sips from two mugs. One mug houses a close friend, vodka. The other: vodka’s gay counterpart, hot chocolate with mini mellows.
Its a startling combination and disturbing revelation. Two mugs with two very different properties yet there he sits  and sips. He is gaming, possibly LOTR Return of the King on xbox 360. Eyes glittering against the tempest he peers out the window of his Hovel and smiles at the events taking place. A smile at what some have once called the Fields of God. In the morning he will have his way with those fields.
In the morning….