In the Rain

I remember in the last winter storm I saw a homeless man sit on the steps of Pershing Square for 3 days. Every day I’d step out into the cold rain to walk the dogs, but their faces would turn grumpy and they would shake their little bodies insisting we turn around, but not before I’d notice his black umbrella looked more worn than the last time I saw him. And his knees rattled like wooden baseball bats against his chest trying to get in.  And his body was stubbornly tucked underneath the umbrella which did him little good. I asked myself how he could do it. And I Imagined he must have told himself there’s no choice but to grin, bare it, and chew the seconds away one-by-one. When the finally rain stopped, when the sky was fresh, when it seemed the skyscrapers turned shiny again, and life could once again move- he was gone too. Without shelter.


2 Responses to “In the Rain”

  1. I am sure you will delete this, ’cause thats how you roll but…did you think of offering him something warmer? something dryer? douche

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