This morning, after going to bed stressed out about my window and how quite literally unhinged from its track the window is, I noticed a man sleeping in his car. I am ashamed to admit it, but I was distressed. A slender—and not altogether sturdy—pane of glass was the only barrier separating me from this man in his car. I felt guilty for being safe in my apartment, guilty for the radical difference in our sleeping arrangements, and guilty for being worried about being so unprotected from the street. For being made vulnerable by a pane of glass.
just a thin pane of glass
just a thin pane of glass
just a thin pane of glass
This morning, after going to bed stressed out about my window and how quite literally unhinged from its track the window is, I noticed a man sleeping in his car. I am ashamed to admit it, but I was distressed. A slender—and not altogether sturdy—pane of glass was the only barrier separating me from this man in his car. I felt guilty for being safe in my apartment, guilty for the radical difference in our sleeping arrangements, and guilty for being worried about being so unprotected from the street. For being made vulnerable by a pane of glass.