Red, orange, and yellow fall from the trees as the seasons change. Sidewalks movie slowly as the bus inches forward through the neighborhood. Children run along the sides of the streets,
in a hurry to get home for supper. The glass in front of me is tinted just enough with fingerprints of it past inhabitants. The cool air seeps through the cracks in the metal. The doors open and
close, as I make my way towards home. I can hear the rhythm of the steps I take, clip, clap, clip, and clap down the pavement. As I cross the street, and turn the corner. On that corner is a
man, the very same man that has been there for years. Sitting in rags upon a stool, holding a can in his left hand. This man does not speak, just sits there and waits. As if a friend is going to
join him. I give him a smile and slight nod and keep walking. He just stares, as always. Except for this one time, a while back when people even cared about reading the newspaper. It was a
Wednesday afternoon, when some college students were returning from the trip to Italy. The man stopped one of the young guys. Some words were exchanged and it ended with a laugh. I
knew the paper tried to make it seem as if it was nothing, but there was rumors floating about the neighborhood. The truth finally came out on the internet of all places. A video of that day
was posted on one of the students' websites.
The students got off the bus and were on their way home, until one of them noticed the man was handing out papers of some sort. It was a flyer to traveling carnival that only comes around every 32
years. The student snatched the paper crumple it up and threw it at the man. "Yeah right, who would want to go to some old carnival anyway?" he scoffed. Then the man stood up, approached the
students and raised his index finger pointing directly at them and said "Don't be so eager to judge, for you are the ones being judged." Then turned around and sat back down on his stool; humming
an eerie tune.
