~In Passing~

I encounter him daily, the booming of his voice and his barely functional boom box, as he gyrates convulsively near the store front. His daily show is like clockwork. Cars ride bye, some laughing and honking their horns, but it’s as if he’s deaf to his surroundings. His world is completely abroad. His face held an amicable grimace that disagreed with his body language. I sometimes see the young man standing on a hill outside of a large older model house. He’s always alone and there are never any cars parked there. He’s always clothed very neatly with nice designer brands. I’d ask myself, “Does someone take care of him or could he be more self-sufficient than my imagination gives him credit?”

By; Jeanine Monique


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