We went to work, hobbling like hobos on the side of the
road, scattering like little bugs on the shoulder of the highway.
Ginny yelled through her megaphone as we worked, telling us
to view the trash we picked up as a gathering of all the souls
we affected with our drug use. To see each piece as one more
person who forgave us. I picked up an empty box of adult diapers and wondered
who that was supposed to be.
I tried to do what Ginny asked, but it’s hard to heal when
you’re supposed to find significance in picking up a used