The cold bit at my face as I walked the streets, the 39-degree wind cutting through my layers like it had a personal grudge. But as I passed a man sitting quietly on the curb, I forgot my own discomfort. He wore a smile so pure and inviting it outshone the chill in the air— though his smile revealed something else: he had no teeth.
Something in his posture, his presence, drew me to stop. I bent down to chat with him, and what began as a casual exchange turned into something much deeper. Within minutes, we uncovered an extraordinary connection: we were both from Phoenix, Arizona. For a moment, the windy streets of East Texas melted away as we reminisced about the warmth of our hometown.
“How did we both end up here?” he asked, shaking his head with a smile. It was a good question—one we didn’t answer but one that lingered in the crisp air.
