RESTIVE

Four and a half months. That's how long I survived on the streets of Dallas.

Not because of addiction or mental illness. Because a recession destroyed my temp work income, and suddenly the margin between making it and losing everything disappeared.

This is the story of those months. Of sleeping on bus station benches and rolled-up industrial carpet. Of the meal circuit and shelter lottery. Of Prophet, Spider, and the Soap Hoarder. Of case workers who cared and those who didn't.

From below the library's polished table I shook my worn boots left and right, a nervous rhythm. Above the table my fingers kept pace across the keyboard. I glanced to my right-the Declaration of Independence sat in its glass case, watching. I allowed myself a small smile.

A senior citizen blessed me with a 13-year-old laptop. The emails I wrote finally opened doors. I summoned something within myself to make someone hear me. Copywriters from 100 years ago had already codified what I'd learned from sheer necessity.

Raw, specific, and unflinching, RESTIVE makes the invisible visible. For anyone who's ever been one paycheck away from disaster. For social workers who need to understand what actually helps. For those still out there: temporary means temporary.

I survived by writing my way out. Now I write full-time, supporting myself entirely through words.