A specter walks out of the rainstorm

It’s pouring rain and I’m sitting here under this awning when I hear some wingnut off in the distance, loudly babbling and ranting to himself. Eventually I spot him as he’s walking across the plaza. He turns and heads in my direction towards me (“oh boy here comes trouble,” is all I’m thinking). He stands in front of me. He’s soaking wet. He doesn’t even have a jacket on, let alone any rain gear. He holds up a soggy snipe and says to me, “Gah’ a light??” I tell him I don’t smoke. He says, “Ah’ jus’ got cited and released from jail.” He stands there babbling at me for a bit. Until he finally turns and trudges off back into the rain. Leaving a trail of donuts and crumbs in his wake.

All kinds in this world. . . . The crows just showed up, right on cue, and ate up all the donuts. So the guy managed to accomplish a good deed for the day, at least from the perspective of the crows.

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