This is the main corner where I first met X.
X. His sign reads "Sometimes a smile is all it takes. God bless."
X's corner. He keeps it as clean as he can. He brought the trash can here.
X's feathers. He collects them and places them along the highway fence.
X shows me where he goes to safely use his fentanyl.
It is a gutted house with no electricity or running water.
He sits on these steps. The space to the right (not pictured) was a pile of garbage rising up from the basement. I had accidentally stepped on it and X warned me it's possible to fall in.
He keeps his fentanyl in this old lemon juice container.
Releasing air from the plunger.
The window opposite the stairs. Someone has left a used needle in the windowsill.
He tells me he's looking for the red to show up in his vein. He carries narcan just in case anything goes wrong.
It usually takes multiple re-injections to feel the right effects.
Another discarded needle from someone else.
X tells me that folks who are homeless often go to the bathroom wherever they feel it's safe. Businesses often don't allow the homeless to use their bathrooms, and in the United States, public restrooms are rare.
The window of the gutted house.
Finally, this is another safe space X goes to use. He is sheltered from the road and uses this downed tree truck to discard his used needles. He does not reuse them.
The needle tree.
