Many had the joy of listening to their friends and family, and had the pleasure of their company when they surrounded themselves around a warm fire in the winter time, while he had the pleasure of getting warmth from the engine smoke that came from passing vehicles.
It was that dreaded time of the year once again, winter. The season he dreaded the most, the season that had him contemplating whether or not he should just run in front of one of the vehicles that sped by him every day.
Cars raced past his spot under the concrete bridge all the time, causing a never ending echo sound that reminded him over and over of how alone in the world he was. It was as if the earth was spinning but time remained still, for him at least.
He watched the faces of the people that could actually afford cars as they passed. He found it interesting to see different people and sat and wondered what each of their stories were. If he were bored, which he always was, he'd make up one for them in his head. It ate up most of his time, however he craved to have a story of his own. A story that involved anything but an orphanage or a graffiti covered bridge.
Most of the drivers he sat and watched were smiling or singing along to some song on the radio. Some even texting on their cellphones, oblivious to the dangers of the busy street. However, he very much envied them. Even if it were just for a split second, he put himself in each of those persons lives for just that little amount of time. That's what helped him go on day by day, but at night when little to no cars passed by, it's the emptiest he's ever felt.
Darkness was definitely no friend of his, but darkness was who he was.
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