I'd been clean for about a year and a half. I'd forgotten what the date of my last blast was, and I was happy about that. I liked the new me a lot more than the old me: The new me didn't owe back rent, and even had a bit of money for groceries. The one thing the new me couldn't do, though, was write.
About a ten years ago, the Canadian Jewish Humanitarian and Relief Committee, launched a creative writing contest for the homeless. The prize? $2000. Now, a decade later, word has gotten out that the odds of winning are high, and the homeless are coming in droves to pen their stories. Stories that will help them find a better life.