He stood tall like a great oak. Maybe six foot five. His trunk was slender but solid and his limbs long and thin.
His gait was effortlessly awkward. Almost drunk. A marionette with his torso pulled upwards but his master had apparently cut the strings to his arms so they flopped toward the ground.
But this man had no master.
His clothes were tattered. Untied gym shoes with woolen socks pulled to the ankle. Beige shorts with the fly carelessly left open. A short sleeve shirt left unbuttoned with bare chest brazenly exposed. A hat perched on curly hair.
His face was expressionless. His eyes devoid of life or love. Dark clouds swirled underneath his brow.
He sauntered past my car oblivious.
And I'm pretty sure....I saw the devil this morning.
At the corner of Green Bay and Central.
On my way to work.
As I sped past I sighed deeply...
and I didn't dare look back.
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