TreadCarefully

Tonight on my doorstep was a man yelling.

It wasn't a scream, only a yell.

The property manager was already there. I was just coming to the front office to do some work, and he summoned me out. I had heard the yelling, didn't know where it was coming from.

The problem was within a man, white haired mullet, ex marine. I had seen him before, always drunk. He would stop at the concierge station and linger too long, too drunk.

He used a walking stick, always carried a backpack. His tattoos were of his Apache and Lakota heritage, on his neck, his arms, his fore-arms. His calves were strong like a man of the desert. I learned he was from Oklahoma, lived in Las Vegas after the Marine Corps.

He was writhing in post seizure agony on the front steps.

I brought him a water and a brochure to bite down on. The ambulance never came. I lit his cigarette, he had an unopened pack of pall-malls.

About 10 minutes in he was able to understand where he was. Not piss drunk, but too drunk. He had walked home but he could walk no more, so I helped change his backpack into a pillow while the manager - wanting to put him back onto the streets, called his social worker.

When he was coming to, he said "Everything is coming back."

TreadCarefully

Two Feathers was supposed to be moved today. We did a welfare check on him this morning and seems he never made it home. He hadn't taken his walking stick.

DXRD btnhl 55%%