His name was Farrell, he lived on the
streets. A person propagated like anyone, but through misfortune became
a derelict. Despite the sad things he’s been through, he made himself know on
the streets by being excepting to anyone he asked a little kindness from.
I met Farrell one night going home from
work, he was walking along the same pavement as I was. I try to get his
attention but he seemed dismissive as if he was disquietude. At first I felt as
leaving him alone, but later decided to find out what could be wrong as all of
the village seemed empty.
As
I trawled the town to look for him, I realized a noticeably strange trail of
breadcrumbs - like in Hansel and Gretel – that turned round a corner. Around
the corner I found that the breadcrumbs led to a body, Farrell’s body, lying in
the middle of the quiet road as if ready to get squashed.
Shock to have seen
this I tried to call him back on to the pavement, but was completely ignored. I
approached him towards the middle of the road. To my surprise he immediately
stood back up and walked onto the opposite pavement, the moment I was
close. I pursued him hopping he won't walk of again. Standing
right next to him I asked what was wrong placing my hand on his shoulder.
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