The storm clouds were at my heels, and I sought shelter in the only place I could think of. The Inverted A. Its title was all I could decipher from its plaque. But what it was meant nothing to me; its structure –a pyramid-like design with numerous nooks just big enough for my small body- was my last hope tonight. My hand pressed against cold wet metal of the sculpture, slipping several times as the first raindrops rolled off of it. I tossed my ripped paper grocery bag underneath one of the eaves in its design. That thin brown bag carried all of my possessions, and the rain would destroy it. I had to get it out of the storm that threatened to take everything away from me. I have to keep it safe.
The storm was on me now, growing more and more until the rain drenched my bare, shivering shoulders. My t-shirt clung to my skinny frame; my holey boots were filling with water like a sinking boat. I hoisted myself up onto the downward slanting eave of the sculpture, my sunburnt, calloused hands turning white from the pressure. I brought my foot up onto the eave next to me, trying to climb up into the shelter of the monument. Suddenly, my grip slipped out from underneath me and I fell hard on my back. My chin smacked the unforgiving metal as I went down. I had landed in a pool of rainwater that was rapidly forming in the flower bed around the sculpture. The water seeped through my shirt, chilling my spine. I felt a trickle of blood on my chin, and I angrily wiped it away.
Despite everything, I tried again. My boot finally found a foothold on the downward slanting steel; I slipped quickly under the eave above my head.
I sighed as my head sank against the solid construction of the sculpture. I looked out into the thundering rain as it splattered against the pavement around my secret alcove. My isolation was complete. I almost smiled as a warm peace settled within me and my refuge. No one would steal my possessions, my sacred grocery bag. No cop would blind me with his flashlight or prod me with his baton as I slept fitfully through the night underneath a park bench. Not even a rat could scamper and scavenge in my belongings tonight.
My eyelids flickered closed, assured that the storm would guard me as I slept.