And that’s when she sees him. At the far end of the bench, a man. White. Mid-60s, maybe. Thin. Not just thin, hollowed out.
Like something had been eating him from the inside for a long time. His jacket is torn. His hands are shaking. Not from the cold, from something deeper. He’s slumped over. Eyes half closed. He looks like he hasn’t eaten in days.continue reading …
