eegolden
The first thing I noticed about him was how upright he stood. Like someone had pressed a board to his back his whole life; he was rigid and unmoving. I watched from afar, more intrigued than anything. His demoded, yellowed coat flapped in the wind, a reminder of what was had and what was lost. He seemed to me a traveler from distant shores, a fact indicated by the vague sense of disembodiment and plain confusion etched on his face. I wondered where exactly he called home.
A bus roared between us, breaking the moment of intrigue and silent reckoning. I looked again and he was gone, perhaps back to his distant shores, perhaps in search of a newer jacket.