Sitting here at the coffee shop, enjoying my over priced latte, but it does look pretty doesn’t it? I have a seat at the window, watching the passersby hoping to find inspiration to write about one of them. Will it be forthcoming, with an important object, possibly worn, a bright scarf, slanted fedora, or an ancient cane?
And then my gaze drifts across the street through a momentary lapse of traffic. A homeless person, wrapped in a blanket even though the temperature is warm. I’m sure the blanket is a comfort, a shield against prying eyes, for there is no cup or hat or other receptacle. He is not asking for money. He’s just asking for that tiny paved place to rest.
A sad inspiration for a few words. I should leave this shop, cross the street, try to engage this person, ask how he is, if I could help in any way. . .but then my coffee would get cold.