I heard a soft, almost apologetic voice
“Have you got any spare change, please
So I can get a drink?”
In discomfort, I at first tried to look away
But my eyes did not let me
I reached for my purse
Hope in his thin face
“What sort of day are you having?”
I shrugged my shoulders, smiled.
A bit better, now, I thought. His name was Terry.
Thin, with too- thin clothes.
He said he’d remember my name because it was unusual.
I thought, and I’ll remember yours.
A few missing teeth, but handsome;
A sequence of events, which could happen to any of us
And here he was
On the street… but hopeful, because the council were trying to find him a place to live
An ordinary, extraordinary conversation; We said “bye”. I went to my car
A different person.