In the Fringe — Eleanor Summers

I do not pretend to know what the meaning of life is, but I do know that it is a strange existence for those people who live in the fringe of our social fabric. This is the story of such a person. At its base, it is a tale of survival; at its best it is an amusing story of tenacity. If I could, I would leave the story untold. But I cannot. It will not leave my head, and so I write, in an attempt to remove the disillusionment of Americana, once and for all, from my mind.