GIRL IN ALLEY, SAN FRANCISCO, MARCH 2007
there's a weight that seems to have crushed her. she's hunched as she steps in quick stabs. she drifts in place and hobbles away. she's frail. like every new blow breaks more than its share.
it's dirty here. and hopeless. the alley smells like urine. the faces turn away as you pass. or they stare expectantly.
she's yelled at by a man as he approaches. and as he leaves.
she needs five bucks.
she's young. she smiles like a spotlight. her eyes speak. but she has trouble.
her name is sheina, but people call her sunday.
and there are moments when you can see the girl she was going to be.