Rain or Shine Man

Every day, rain or shine, he'd be perched at the same spot wearing the same smelly clothes and shoes that didn't have much longer to go until the sole peeled off completely. You could see through the bald patches of his beard that his skin was darkened by the dirt and sun. His unruly hair hadn't been washed for months and there was enough dirt under his fingertips to plant potatoes. If you happened to catch his eye, you'd see past his outer filth and heaven forbid be drawn to his beautiful inside. He'd always have a smile waiting for you and and would send you off with a blessing if you stopped to chat or dropped off money or food. He'd tell tall tales to anybody who'd listen and tell you the same stories again tomorrow. For the most part, he was just homeless to the majority of people who walked past him. He didn't care for them. He used to be just like them. Had it not been for the handful of people for whom he was the familiar, a nameless and ageless kindred spirit to greet on the way to work and back home, nobody would have ever known that he was long gone.