The Final Chapter

I woke up on the sidewalk out front a vegan donut shop broadcasting holiday music.

THE EVICTION SERIES
CHAPTER 13

I woke up to darkness and a headache. I could hear a man and a woman having a heated conversation and the air smelled heavily of incense and Patchouli.

The Huge Release Party for the Literary Magazine In case you haven’t heard, we just put out an incredible literary magazine called The Dreams I Dreamt: Letters to San Francisco thanks to a grant from the Civic Joy Fund. It’s a gift to San Francisco, where 19 of The City’s

The Eviction Series
Chapter 12

It was my birthday and I went to North Beach. I just wanted to forget that that the city was changing faster than I could keep up. To draw something nice and take myself out to a dinner of spaghetti and wine.

THE EVICTION SERIES
CHAPTER 10
I hit the street angry. I didn’t want to be, but the more I tried to let it go, the angrier I became. A guy was passed out on the sidewalk. As I walked around him, I looked at his shoeless rotting feet and the can of beer in his hand and tried to tell myself that life is full of problems, and that what matters most is not the injustice we feel, but how we comport ourselves in the face of it.

The Eviction Series
Chapter 9
The waiting room of the Tenant’s Union was packed like a New Delhi train station. It also turned out to be the same room where the civic-minded lawyers who volunteered to counsel renter’s on their rights held court, so I sat down, and for the next three hours listened to the parade of locals ahead of me voicing their housing grievances.

The Eviction Series
Chapter 7
I decided to try Oakland. There was a house I was willing to consider listed for 850k—which seemed like a lot of money, especially for having to leave the city, but I needed to feel I was exploring all my options.

The Eviction Series
Chapter 6
I realized I had not been home in two days. At least not inside. Not since I’d found the eviction notice on my door. Seeing that had made me panic. I ran out to find a new place to live only to see how cutthroat the market really was. Now I felt beaten and needed to rest.

I left the open house feeling dizzy—I mean, one-point-eight million dollars for a box? How was I supposed to afford that? Let alone live in something so small?