You can’t escape from the sounds on the street. The hardest part is when you try to sleep. You lay down on cold, hard ground, but it is the sounds that sting your heart. You get lost in them: the sound of horns, the howling of dogs, the rumbling of your stomach, the croak of crows and the sound of loneliness make it silent in a crowd. You can’t warn the guy on the bench for snoring or ask who turned off the lights because you want to read. Nothing is the same on the streets.”Lara’s face was blank like she’d lost all her emotions and gestures. She saw the man sleeping on a stone bed, under air blankets, between newspapers, and he was doing it willingly.
“You are on the line between life and death. You drew it yourself.”