I was on duty at the intersection of Polaski and Main St. this morning. I hadn't bothered to shave or even shower. It had taken an exceptional amount of time to will myself out of bed this morning. Maybe it was exhaustion from yesterday's work. Maybe it was something else, something deeper. Recently I've been having this feeling that it's just not worth it. My life is centered around people who seem to have this relentless hate for everyone else. For the world. It scares me to think that it may be rubbing off on me.

As I scanned the street for any kind of trouble a noise caught my attention. I followed it to the very back of the Polaski St. Diner. I scanned the alley, dark and cold even in the early hours of the morning. Eventually it caught my eye, there was a man digging through the dumpster further down the alley. My immediate instinct was to call out to him, give him some sort of citation, look up his records, ultimately finding some sort of incrimination I was supposed to impose upon him, but something stopped me. That same feeling that had kept me from getting out of bed began to bounce around in my mind. I wanted it gone, I hated it.

I looked closely at the man with his worn out clothes and dirty hair. His sad eyes searching for something, anything in the dark wet dumpster. I watched the man for a few more long moments and then turned to leave the alley way.

My head stopped pounding as I left the homeless man at peace.