These scribbles, written on a wall near Harborview Hospital, stopped me cold. As I read them--amazed, amused, bemused--a homeless woman called out to me. Could I give her money for food?
I just left the Cherry Street Food Bank, I said. It's less than a block away and they're serving lunches right now.
She swore at me, and, hitching up her skirt, sat down on the trunk of a parked car.
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