Jan 23, 2021
3 min read
The Fiesta
Five days I have kept to myself. I walk in the opposite direction of downtown, toward the rocks along the beach. I pass other homeless comrades, pushing carts and lumbering like old pack mules in tattered clothes and worn-out shoes. We retreat during times like these when all the outsiders flock into our town to celebrate the Fiesta.
Some of us hide in caves etched in the mountains that overlook the sea. I tucked away behind the large rocks…
