I see him every day. He comes to the park and sits on a metal bench. He eats there and reads something. Behind him there are trees.
When he is gone, I find what he has thrown away. They are wrappers and newspapers. I take them back, and at night, I smell them.
Today he is here. I watch from between the rocks. He is wearing a pink shirt and a tie, and black shoes. He is watching the women and their dogs. He is watching the children and their kites. A man sits next to him and they talk. They laugh. Twice, he looks in my direction, but he does not see me in these shadows.
When night comes, I climb out of the hole and go to the bench. He is here, in the air. I lie on the metal. I breathe against the stars and the holes…
View original post 3,069 more words