Homeless

The lawyer who could eat your lunch ate his quickly on a cold outdoor bench, when a revealing breeze introduced the pungent odor of his new neighbor. The steely-haired vagrant’s rumpled visage acknowledged by a right honorable disdain, he quickly opined one loses the ability to sense one’s own stench after days of pissing. He wondered about days in his cruel world, full of encounters with untrustworthy adversaries, manipulative lies to get needed cash, cutthroat tactics and rummaging through receptacles of worthless papers. And he imagined what the dreary evening’s routine must be like -- riding the last Metro, shuffling into his shelter, getting quietly buzzed, and not hearing from the family who gave up on him a long time ago. On the emptied park bench a rather cheerful transient grabbed food scraps left by the lawyer who, after a well-considered reflection, seemed very much alone.