Axel lives in the doorway across the street from me. Right now, as I’m staring out the window trying to think of something to write, he’s undressing on the sidewalk. Please don’t continue with the long johns, Axel. Please.

How do I know Axel? He asks me for money every day. He steals from my friends. He frequents the same shops I do, but I never see him buy anything. One fine morning I confronted him for taking the tip jar from my favorite coffeeshop. The list goes on.

I used to dream of helping people like Axel, but now I have no idea what to do, especially when I can’t afford to pay my own gas bill. It’s forty-five degrees out there, and his jeans are still laying on the sidewalk.

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