His eyes are deep in their sockets.
"Hiya" he says. Half his teeth are gone.
"Crackhead" I think to myself.
He holds out a Styrofoam cup in his filthy hand.
"Crackhead Methhead" I think to myself.
"The American journalist was convicted in Iran,"
he says. How could he know that and not me?
"Obama shook Gomez's hand."
I know that. Gestures going on everywhere.
"Breathe more frequently through your nose.
It strengthens your lungs and is good for the planet."
Crackhead. I give him his regular morning dollar.
"Get coffee, Chris, not poison," I say.
"There's evidence that there was water flow on Mars
thank you very much."
Photo: E. Galland