The Exiles

Short note before my morning visit to The Palace; more later.

After Brian left, I lingered at Twist for a while and watched what only could be expected to happen: one by one Palace People (my description for the regulars, some of whom come every day and others every weekend) walked in. They would enter the room slowly, almost meekly their eyes looking around a friendly face. There was first a wave and then a hug and after a while I grouped them all together in the middle of the room; it seemed better than scattered or huddling in some corner. It reminded me of the accounts of Paris in the 20's where a dazed number of exiles took refuge although they had no clue what to do with themselves or why this had happened to them. Anna had just returned from sawing trees at her mother's home in Miami, Keith was looking for a two bedroom rental as his condo was totally destroyed, Josh had escaped the night before Wilma and came back to reality, Erwin just sat there not speaking very much, Bill griped and drank about 10 rum and cokes, and on and on. It gets sadder every day.