text: &#x200B; Rachel sat on the tile floors of a one-person bathroom in the park as she listened to the rain pelting down outside and the occasional clap of thunder that broke up the monotonous percussion of the rain. Tonight was not a good night to be homeless, not that any night ever was, but tonight was an especially bad night. It was cold. Wet. Worst of all, the people had not been charitable today and she looked at the measly bounty she had collected over a day’s worth of begging and counted it out. Seventeen dollars and ninety-two cents. It wasn’t enough for her to commune with her god and that brought her even lower than life had by putting her in this situation where her only refuge from the storm was this dirty bathroom in the middle of the park. She would’ve cried if she could have, but she could not, and thus, she simply made her peace with the fact that tonight was a very bad night and slept with her head against the cold tile and hoped for better tidings tomorrow. &#x200B; Morning came quick for Rachel, at least it felt like it did. In reality, she slept about ten, maybe eleven hours, but it was a dreamless, restless sleep with lots of tossing and turning which was interrupted by a heavy banging on the door by someone whom she presumed to be an annoyed parkgoer needing to pee. She managed to mutter out with only minimal slurring (which was actually quite a feat for her when she first woke up), “Uhh--one sec--I’ll be right out.” She got to her feet as quick as she could, but even that didn’t feel very fast. Every fiber of her being felt utterly sapped and the exhaustion clung to her deep in her bones and even into her soul, but she managed to shamble over to the door to open it to the sight of a man in his early thirties and his four-year-old daughter. &#x200B; The man was unimpressed with the emaciated husk that stood before him and turned up his nose at her. He pushed his daughter behind him so that Rachel could half-fall, half-walk out of the bathroom and he quickly ushered his daughter in so that she wouldn’t catch too much sight of the woman stumbling out of the bathroom. Rachel didn’t much care for people like that men. They were too judgey. Too quick to write her off as nothing but a tweaked out loser, but she didn’t pay him much mind once she got in stride with the day. Today was going to be a good day, she told herself. Today she was going to earn enough to buy her communion and then everything would be okay. Yes, today was going to be a good day and she felt a smile crawl across her pale lips as she walked through the park. &#x200B; The walk from the Park to the corner of Sixth and Main was long, but she didn’t care much. She had a half-drank bottle of Dr. Pepper and even though she felt like shit, she knew she’d make enough today. She just needed another twelve dollars and eight cents and then she’d call up Marco and he’d give her everything she needed to perform the sacrament that helped her connect with her god. He was a good god and Rachel loved him more than anything in the world, more than her six figure job that she used to have, more than the big house, more than her husband, more than her two little boys who probably weren’t so little anymore, but she didn’t like to think about that. Nope. She liked to think about how good it’d feel to perform the sacrament and experience the pure love and bliss of her god. She liked to think about how that exhaustion that sapped at her deeper than anything ever should would be instantly exorcised by the sacrament. Yes. That’s what she preferred to think about. Not everything her god had asked her to give up to show her loyalty, but everything he gave her for that loyalty. He was a good god, at least in Rachel’s eyes. &#x200B; When she got to the corner that she had more or less claimed as her own over the past few weeks, she tossed the worn out ballcap off her head and upside down in front of her so that the rare pedestrian who did acknowledge her existence could throw her whatever alms he felt fit. They were growing fewer and farer between though, Rachel noticed, but there were still enough kind souls in this city that she didn’t have to result to more unsavory means to perform her sacrament like some of the other women she had come to know over the years. They worshipped different gods than her though; their gods were tan and white powders or cloudy rocks. Hers was beautiful and pure like polished quartz and that was just one of the many things that made him so perfect in every way. &#x200B; The hours went by slowly and she felt her stomach rumble, but the hat didn’t have enough for her to eat. It only had five dollars and forty-two cents. She needed at least the twelve dollars and eight cents before she could even consider wasting some money on things like food. It’s not that she wasn’t hungry. She hadn’t eaten in two or three days, but there were things more important than food in her life. Rachel needed to perform the sacrament. She had to. She just had to, because how could anyone live without their god’s love? How could anyone go back to living in heathenism after bearing witness to the spiritual exaltation that came from his love? She could fathom it no more than she could fathom the idea that two plus two equals five and maybe even less than that. And for that reason, she kept sitting there as her belly rumbled and the hunger pangs spiked. It wouldn’t matter though once she got enough to call Marco. Her god’s love would take all the pain away and it wouldn’t matter anymore. &#x200B; She didn’t know what time it was but it was starting to get dark and that prompted her to look at the hat, because she knew there was no point in bothering after dark. Everybody went home except for those like her who were trying to commune with their own gods and they certainly wouldn’t donate to her cause. The hat had twenty-two dollars and seventy-one cents which brought about a sigh of relief. She had enough. She finally had enough. &#x200B; Rachel got to her feet and walked to the nearest place with free WiFi. It was a Starbucks on the corner of Eighth and Main that stayed open twenty-four hours a day. It wasn’t ideal for escaping the elements as they were fairly strict on kicking people like her out after so long, but she didn’t care. She just needed their WiFi long enough to text Marco. Yeah, she had to text Marco. Marco would help her. Yeah. Yeah he would. He definitely would. &#x200B; She at in the Starbucks texting him at a mile a minute until he responded, “cool hmu at mickey d’s up on cedar” &#x200B; That was a long walk and was already getting cold. Really cold. But she didn’t care. She didn’t care about any of that, because it was only a couple miles and it wouldn’t matter once she met up with Marco. Yeah, it’d be fine. Everything would be okay. She just needed to hit Marco up, get the stuff, and get right with her god. Yeah that’s all she had to do. Yeah. &#x200B; So she walked. She walked in her old, torn-up sneakers that hurt her feet because they were so old and had enough holes that some people questioned why she even bothered with shoes. There was a chill to the air on that night, but fortunately for her, the storm had passed. Rachel was grateful for that. She would’ve kept going to Marco even if the storm hadn’t passed, even if it meant she’d walk into that McDonald’s soaking wet and utterly drenched, but she was glad that wouldn’t be the case. &#x200B; Finally, after what felt like forever but was actually only about an hour, she walked into that McDonald’s and saw Marco sitting at a table nursing a burger that was probably cold by now and she made her way over to him. He looked her up and down and gave a bit of a smirk, “Y’know, Rachel, all you had to do was ask for a ride.” &#x200B; She did her best to hide how uncomfortable Marco made her, but it wasn’t as successful as she hoped, not that Marco cared. He knew exactly what he was doing and he got off on it. It’s why he did it. He loved letting her know that all she had to do to stop living the hard life was just stop saying no, but getting right with her god hadn’t gotten that bad yet, although there had been some times when she wondered. But she hated Marco. She hated Marco almost as much as she loved her god, but almost was the key word there. If she hated him more than she loved her god then maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t have sacrificed so much in his name, but she was long past that and now she just had to deal with her choices. After all, at this point, there was no turning back. &#x200B; “That’s okay, Marco. Look, you uhh--y’know?” &#x200B; “Yeah, Rach, I got it for you, but can I at least get a please out of you?” &#x200B; Fuck you, Marco. FUCK YOU! That’s what she thought to herself, but that’s not what she said. What she actually said was more along the lines of, “Can I pleeeease get that stuff we talked about?” &#x200B; “Ahh, Rachel, you always did melt my icy heart, you know that? Course you can as long as you got what I need.” &#x200B; She reached into her pocket and counted out twenty-eight dollars in actual bills and had to mix-and-match coins for the other two dollars’ worth, but it was all there. He counted it carefully before swiping it up and flipping her a tiny baggie of beautiful, translucent crystals that she had craved since her last time her getting her hands on them. Finally, she would get right with her god and everything in her world would be good again. Finally. &#x200B; “I’m gonna go now, Marco. It’s uhh--good to see you, I guess.” &#x200B; “So soon, baby? Come on, spend a little time with me! Tell you what, I’ll buy you a cheeseburger.” &#x200B; “Sorry, Marco. I got things I’ve gotta do. Sorry.” &#x200B; He frowned. She didn’t care. She got up and made her way to the bathroom and nestled into the handicapped stall. She should’ve been more careful and selected a better place and she knew that, but it had been a few days and she just couldn’t wait any longer. She gently spilled some of those crystals into a tiny glass pipe that she carried with her everywhere, really it was only thing she owned that she actually cared about anymore, besides that little baggie. She loved that just as much. And she took a lighter and gently jostled the crystals around as the flame licked the bulb of the pipe. &#x200B; She took a deep breath and with it, the Sacrament had been performed. All was good in the world again. Everything felt good. She had her energy back. She felt like she could take on anything and everything was great and wonderful and just fantastic even. She spent a good five minutes or so repeating the Sacrament to get right with her god before she strolled out of the bathroom with quick, long steps and leaving behind a cloud of smoke carrying the aroma of burnt plastic. Finally the world was right again and she was ready to face it, for she finally felt her god’s love again, but she had a new goal now. She needed to do three things. &#x200B; She needed to get some more Dr. Pepper, she was craving a King Size Cookies & Cream Hershey Bar, and she needed to make sure she had enough money to hit Marco up again tomorrow when what was left in that left in that little baggie would be gone. But for now, she wasn’t panicking about that. She felt like her entire world had come into focus and it was in all her control. All thanks to the god in the tiny glass pipe who she loved more than her husband, more than her kids, more than her career, and more than anything else in the world. She loved her god and for now, her god loved her, but would be reevaluated once she ran out of those tiny shards to perform the sacrament. But she wasn’t too worried about that right now. Nope. Everything was perfect and as it should be and she would solve all of her problems tonight and everything would be wonderful.