20 Years

20 Years

The man’s voice was loud. He wore a shabby dark coat, dark pants and a light T shirt.
“20 years! I’ve been homeless 20 years! I could get in places where they wouldn’t let Obama in. I could go anywhere if I wanted to. I’m homeless. The cops should know me but they don’t. They see me but to them I’m not there. You know what it is? They just don’t want to see me.

The passengers waiting at the dirty J train stop looked at him, turned the other way. Some turned their backs. One or 2 gave a sigh of relief when the train finally arrived.


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