Where am I? Am I going some where?

Le'al heard the words loud. They were in her head. She hoped. She looked from side to side. She was alone. People passed. In cars. On a bus. No one seemed to see her.

She couldn't tell if she was dreaming. Until she saw the chain.

Le'al started running. She passed Harvey's. A dead end street. An abandoned building. She thought it was where they collected money for the lot. The lot where the chain was. She ran up to the old chain.

It was secure on two poles. Each about waist high. On a short person. Yellow paint flaking from its dated links. They were large links. The kind you see around the necks of men not wearing shirts and roasting under baby oil in summer sun. She sat on them.

The links took her in sway. The night hung around her. She felt secure. She sat and rocked. Timing the clank of metal forced back and forth against metal.

Le'al always went to the same spot. This lot. With only the chain and the abandoned building marking its existence. It was perfect.

The perfect distance from her home, her living room, where much of her life was spent not living. She liked to go to this chain because if she waited long enough, no one would see her. She could go to the chain, sit and think, go home and be exhausted.

These were the nights she sleep fast and deep.