On my walk to the train early Tuesday morning, I realized that my apartment building has a new resident. Or at least the property does…
He sleeps wrapped up in a blanket in the 18 inches or so between our building’s far northwestern corner and the bush that runs along the edge of the sidewalk. At first glance, it’s easy to mistake the man for an abandoned pile of clothing. I’m sure that’s by design, and frankly I doubt even I would have noticed him at all if I hadn’t dropped my keys in my early morning stupor.
And now that I’ve gotten my personal matters straightened out again; and I will finally leave this miserable neighborhood for good in 6 weeks to single-handedly multiply the Coolness Factor of SE Hawthorne by a factor of 10…I wonder where this man will go from here? Will he stay out this way for long? Will anybody else “catch him”? Does he even care? Does he have anything to lose?
I wonder about this man’s life…but I’m never going to wake him. Does anybody ever think about him? Now, or in the recent past? Besides me, of course…
A wife? Kids? Parents, brothers, sisters…nieces, nephews?
Does he know that somebody’s writing about him right now?