by Traci Cumbay
“Spare a dollar?” asks the bearded fellow wearing dirty clothes, and I tell him I don’t have cash, which is true. “Spare a bite?” he tries, pointing to my sack of leftovers from a chichi downtown restaurant. “Oh,” I say, “I have to write about this food for the newspaper.” Also true. “This life is fucked,” he says. True.
Traci Cumbay is a freelance writer and editor, and an MFA student at Butler University.