ABSTRACT
I sat quietly on José's hide-a-bed couch and leaned my head back, tired and peaceful. I thought about the many nights I had spent there in the apartment getting to know the man. I let my eyes roam around the room, taking in the now-familiar knickknacks, posters, paintings, pictures, and awards. Here and there my eyes would pause, and I'd smile, or chuckle, or sigh quietly. I had come to have a personal connection to José and his crazy world, and I felt profoundly privileged.
