By Craigory Sparks That day came Wednesday. The day I always knew would come. The day when I would arrive at that giant glass door to the office high rise in the Financial District of San Francisco. That office high rise full of J. Crew bros and SoulCycle girls mucking

Sutter Station doesn’t give a fuck. In fact it has been steadfastly sitting on Market Street, not giving fucks since 1969. That’s before BART existed, before Tales of the City came out, and before the Beatles broke-up.

I’ve got some awesome news! We received a grant from the Civic Joy Fund to put out a literary magazine celebrating SF and acting to counter the stupid “Doom Loop” narrative. It’s a gift to the people of San Francisco. And after months of working on this project it’s now available

Every week we feature a different person from the community shedding a little light on their life of brokeitude. Who knows, maybe you’ll learn something about the human spirit — probably not.