Of raincoats and resilience

The morning sky had wrung itself out, leaving behind a damp chill and streets lined with puddles. I was on my usual route, driving slowly, scanning for familiar faces or new ones—people just trying to survive another day. That’s when I saw him.

A man, wrapped in a black trash bag, the top carefully cut so his head could poke through like a homemade poncho. His shoes—or what should have been shoes—were tucked inside plastic grocery bags, knotted around his ankles. He marched forward with a steady determination as if he were on a mission, unfazed by the rain that had drenched the world just an hour before.

I pulled over and stepped out of my car, crossing the wet pavement to meet him.