standing at the corner was one of our ubiquitous homeless. the hood was up on his inadequate raingear, his sign was dog-eared, and he carried a battered cane.
i waved to him, and he slowly shuffled over. the light was about to change, and the line behind me was eager, no doubt, to make their right turn on red. i felt hurried and a little anxious.
"how about some breakfast?" i asked, offering him my clif bar.
saying something i didn't quite catch, he took it from me and then said, "thank you."
"you're welcome," i replied, rolling up my window as i turned and accelerated, already late.
the first notes of 'happy christmas (war is over)' began as the man's words finally coalesced...
"i don't have any teeth."
"what am i supposed to do with that?" i silently yelled at no one.
pounding the steering wheel a couple times, i drove on.
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