____ Why is it so hard to care?

As a writer, I look into dark places. I gaze down alleyways and roam the streets.  You can’t write if you don’t observe and you can’t observe unless you dare to look.

What you see isn’t always pleasant (although it can be tender).

Today, in an alleyway leading to the marina in Marigot where I live, I watched a man light a crack pipe.