Taking Risks
“The last time that we were there we had made small talk, but no real progress in his moving on. He didn’t tell me anything about his life and I didn’t even know if he knew any of his story. All I knew about him were the basics; he knew that he was lonely, sad, and dead. After making our way through the woods, I was glad that I had decided to wear a jacket. It was unseasonably cold for our little southern town that time of year. It was the middle of September and it was already feeling like Chri...stmas time.
When we made the rest of the walk, and the old town square came into view, I spotted my little dirty boy. He was sitting on an old park bench with his head in his hands, crying. When I walked up to him he looked up at me with puffy eyes and blotchy cheeks. The dirt on his face had been streaked with tears. I wanted to throw my arms around him to offer him a little comfort, but I knew very well that my arms would pass right through him.MoreLess
When we made the rest of the walk, and the old town square came into view, I spotted my little dirty boy. He was sitting on an old park bench with his head in his hands, crying. When I walked up to him he looked up at me with puffy eyes and blotchy cheeks. The dirt on his face had been streaked with tears. I wanted to throw my arms around him to offer him a little comfort, but I knew very well that my arms would pass right through him.MoreLess
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