1K 60 34

A man stumbled alone, brown hair short and pushed to the side. One leg twisted at an odd angle his foot pointed to the right. He had thick black sunglasses that obscured his eyes. He never seemed to take them off.

A medium sized dog followed behind him. The stray wouldn't leave the man alone. Never has since he gave the starving dog a piece of pizza that he found in the trash.

He sat on the sidewalk, back pressed against the railing of the bridge he lived under. The dog besides him, head down and watching the cars blur by. His leg lay stretched out, allowing others to see the misshaped bone.

His stomach aches, as usual for he hasn't eaten in days. He misses the warmth of his home. The bed he used to dream on. But he couldn't go back. He'd die before he went back. He'd probably die if he even did go back.

But for now he waited, letting huger gnaw at his stomach.

Another man watched him. Sympathy evident for the homeless boy who was obviously crippled. Many people believed his was blind, with the glasses covering his eyes, that was the main theory.

He seemed older than the boy. He always tried to pass by, brining five tens or sometimes twenties along just for the boy and his dog.

He always wanted to talk with the boy, see if he can get a smile on his sad pale face but any conversation was awkward.

He wanted to help the poor boy. To Help him with everything.

Beware The Boy on The BridgeWhere stories live. Discover now