He’s a lonely fixture on the street corner: cardboard sign, threadbare coat, empty eyes resigned to this fate. His life is a mere bump in the road. Ignored by many, embraced by none, even though he once lived their lives.
In the night, he howls without words and resolves nothing.
Candace Kubinec posts her stories at storydribbles.wordpress.com and her poetry at rhymeswithbug.com.
Your phrase, ” even though he once lived their lives”, says so much. I once knew a homeless man in Canada whose family from Texas flew up to mourn and bury him when he died. They told us how he had once been a concert pianist.
Chilling in a poignant sort of way. Great atmosphere. Love it