do you have twenty dollars for the bus?
he was old and he looked exhausted. he was asking one and then another. no one looked, no one cared. they walked around him like they were avoiding a foul odour.
he asked me and i had to gather the courage to tell him no, sorry i don't have any.
i cried on the bus home.
was he not somebody's son? did he not have people waiting for him at home? how incredibly lonely it must feel. to want to go home. to have no home to go back to.
is this what humanity was? to cry for the people you couldn't help? to cry for yourself?
