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I was sitting on the Red Bench, my belongings in a clear plastic garbage bag at my feet, waiting for my intake to get a bed in the homeless shelter in Dallas. I was so nervous that I was shaking my right leg fast and hard, twitching. My brother used to do that when he was coming off the crystal meth. I was trying to recite tehillim, but I couldn’t get the lines right. I kept messing up. I looked around the intake hall. Everything was made of concrete and painted grey. “A very sturdy building. Easy to keep clean.”, I