Spare Me Some Time
by The Literalist
Watching the feet of a thousand people walk on that sidewalk every day became Alfred's favorite pastime, his only pastime actually. He was fascinated taking in the different kinds of shoes that were worn each day, the speed at which each pair of feet was walking, how the number of feet would increase at certain points in the day and taper off when it was less crowded.
Yes, Alfred Jones would stare at these feet the passed by him, even though the owners of those feet never even so much as spared a glance in his direction. After all, he was just a young homeless man in battered clothes sitting against the brick wall of a bank, the same bank that displayed his account balance as $0 a few months prior. The same bank that refused to let him take out any more loans to pay for his cramped, shabby apartment. The same bank that had no mercy on him after he had lost his job and could not find any other source of employment. With no money and no help, Alfred had been forced to live on the streets of New York City at the ripe age of 26. He had taken whatever he could from his apartment including some food and blankets, knowing whatever he would have to face living outside would not be forgiving or pleasant.
He hated the thought of begging the passersby for money, so he spent every day the past few months leaning against the brick wall observing the feet of his fellow city-goers pass by him in a rush. Most people were uncomfortable with the homeless so they made sure to never get close to him or look at him, and in all honesty Alfred didn't blame them. He was sure by now he must have looked like a ratty mess of dirt and grime.
Yet even with his current quality of living being so low, Alfred remained the optimist he had always been. People watching was actually a lot of fun, if you really thought about it. And he still had some granola bars to last him for a little while longer, which was pretty nice. And the wall wasn't too uncomfortable if you placed a big blanket between you and the bricks. Yes, all in all, it could have been a lot worse for Alfred Jones.
One day, a pair of shoes Alfred had never seen before walked briskly past him, and for some reason they took him by surprise. The shoes were the shiniest he had ever seen, as if the man wearing them had them professionally shined just minutes before heading out on the street. The speed the man was walking was so desperately fast that Alfred had no doubts the man was clearly late for something important. First day at work perhaps? Ah well, Alfred would never know for sure the reasons for the speedy city-goer in the shiny black shoes passed by him in such a hurry that morning, but for the first time since he became homeless he actually had the desire to see what the man looked like, other than just his shoe preference. He made it his mission to catch sight of the man's face the next time he got a glimpse of those expensive shoes again.