A man so gray
From Wikipen
One could not see him when it was raining. His pale face reflected the color of the sky as he walked the same pace, the clouds were moving far above his head. He wore the whitest shirts one could dream of and yet white was somewhat dirty on him. His voice was beyond audition most of the time, one had to really focus before grasping words at random - it had no more substance than an echo would have had. He could have been a John Doe but unfortunately, he was even less than that, being a James Dolittle. His mind was an immense fog of uncertainty about everything. Not that he was actually asking but all his sentences were interrogative and seemed to end with a question mark. I never had the chance to meet the best friend's wife? One cannot help wondering if there was anything but a best friend in his life. It was a sad life. He had been on the dole for so long, he was so extremely lonely. Compassion gave up on him too. I regret him, I regret I was not a enough of a good man to hug him even once. I heard about his death when Bobby Schwartz told me that the gray man had passed away. We both knew who was so gray as to be reduced to such a dull color. I shall remember his faltering silhouette in the street. Shall I?
