New Man on the Block
In my park, us regulars know each other's faces. But yesterday there was a new face. I wasn't sure he wasn't just a man enjoying a stroll until I saw him again today. Unlike the handful of homeless who frequently hang out here, and can often be seen chatting and laughing together for hours at a park table, this man seemed so lost and so painfully thin, his mint green sweatshirt all but flapping in the wind, with nothing within to protect but a sheaf of skin and bones. At one point, I saw him crouched against a fence, his gaunt face in his hands.
What does one do in this situation? The homeless in Japan do not beg and do not welcome the charity or attention of passersby. But it seemed so wrong to simply keep walking, to pretend there wasn't a man by the side of the road, utterly alone. Should I speak to him if I see him again? Being the cowardly custard that I am, I gotta say I'm a bit afraid to do so.