A Million Steps to Nowhere

That evening, I drove to the streets, hoping to enjoy the company of someone who could use interaction, and I found myself drawn to this one guy. He skirted in front of a business, and once past the door, he glanced back over his shoulder, shuffling his feet. He moved ahead, picked up the pace, and crossed the parking lot.

I didn’t stop my car to speak to him since he had zigzagged on me. Plus, I wasn’t sure if he was homeless. He could have headed to his car—which would have made our encounter awkward. (Or unique.)

His demeanor reflected specific traits, though, such as watching his surroundings, having cautious eyes, and carrying a backpack. But I know that doesn’t mean he was living on the street.