Homeless

Epilogue

Maybe it was the way they dressed, in old clothes, dirty and soaked in mud. Maybe it was the way they were, always laughing and horsing around in the middle of the streets, even at night. Maybe they were simply crazy.

Whatever it was, normal people stayed away from them. Businessmen and working women stayed away from them in the morning, just as they did with somebody asking for spare change. Security guards outside of stores stayed alert and mothers held on tightly to their children when they would pass. Even they themselves could understand that.

But none of them would ever realize how amazing they both were.

Normal people didn't understand them, but those who were kind enough to know them, or ask for help, knew.

The people who turned their eyes often missed when they were helping lost children find their parents, helping the military men who were suffering along the highway, and becoming a family to those who were lost and thought would never be found.

Granite, their method was odd, but to them it made sense. In order to truly understand a situation, you had to endure it. And that was what they did. They understood those who were abandoned by society, left to perish. The girl, whose hair was cut to her ears knew how that felt deeply. And the boy with sweat dripping from his neck had endured it his whole life. But no one would know that because no one would care to.

They were never in the same town for long, nobody saw them more than once unless they were homeless, then in that case, you had joined them. You were home.

Those who did see them, or even talked to them, could hear the adventure in their voice, their purity. One man claimed to have spoken to the boy once or twice. He went on to tell others how young he truly was, and how he always seemed to be mailing people. Who would want to hear from a punk, mockery kid like him, they would never know.

Others heard tales of the women being an angel, being a safe-haven for poor children, and being a friend to all. The one thing everybody that saw her could agree on, however, was how she only ever had eyes for her lover boy. Not many girls looked for kindness in men anymore, but to her, they said, it was what she loved most about him. 

Some people grow up in line, going to school, university, and then get a job.

But for some, they could never think of doing such a thing. Not growing as a person, not seeing the world, not loving every second they were alive.

Not when there were people who needed help. 

Not when there were people who were

homeless.