I live at the Edwards House Inn, a boarding house in Augusta, ME., down by the river. I am kind of growing to like it, even though I have never taken back the sheets and sleep in a sleeping bag on top of the bed. The bed is kind of like a recliner, my feet are way closer to the ground than my head. I think it's because people have been sitting on the edge of the bed to watch TV. The sheets are silk-like, and touch the ground, but I don't touch them. There are a lot of Haitians living here working on a local blueberry farm. A big school bus picks them up every morning and drops them off every night. They all speak French. They don't like talking to others much, but they talk to me now, I forced myself on them. They call me 'boss man,' or Mike. Probably because I'm bossy and my name is Mike. I have shared a couple laughs with them even though we have a hard time understanding each other. C'est La Vie.
