The old man shuffled down the street, being careful to stay out of the way of the bustle and hustle around him, making sure that he didn't make eye contact with anyone. People were scurrying everywhere - with bags and boxes, with wrappings and decorations. 'Tis the season and it was just another day for Walter. They were all just another day since he couldn't remember. His coat was ragged, full of holes, and his shoes had the soles lifting. There was a positive thing about this time of the year - the shelter had a good dinner on Christmas and if things got really cold, they would try to find a place to sleep. But mostly, everything blurred together.
He walked past a shop and paused to look in the window. It was a coffee bar, and every table was full. People were getting their drinks and pastries, waving at friends and settling down to share holidays complaints and frustrations. He heard wisps of conversation through the window - too cold, too many people, did you see the lineups at Nordstroms? can hardly wait for the holiday to Cuba, Joe is not spending enough time, what should I get Nancy for Christmas ... and on and on.
Walter stood there. There was something wrong with this. Wasn't anyone happy with what they had? How could they not see all they had?
"Hey! Old man! Move along! Get going!" a voice came out of the door accompanied by a curly red-headed young man.
"Uh ... Mister ... dd-d-do you have any d-d-dday-old f-f-f-food?" Walter stuttered.
"Hahaha! Get the ffff-f-f-f-ck outta here! You're ruining bbb-b-business!" the young man mimicked Walter.
Walter turned away just as he saw the kid bend over to pick up a handful of snow and throw it at him. "I'm gg-g-going," he muttered.
Late that night found Walter in the alley he claimed as his own. It wasn't really but it had a little corner, out of the way, where he kept old blankets and fabric and things he could use for warmth. The night was getting little colder than normal when he turned the corner into his home.
"Who are you? Get out of here!" a voice came from the pile of things in the corner.
"Th-th-th-that's my corner!" Walter hesitantly spoke out.
"Not any more, old man1 You weren't here when I got here, you won't here much longer! Get going!"
Two times in one night ... this really is the season of good will! Walter thought to himself. Now what is he going to do? It's too late to go to the shelter, it would be full already. His corner was taken, and it was getting colder. He turned and left his home. What a joke.
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