travels continued...

He was to be the questioner today.

"What is it that you do in there?" he repeated.
I stood, speechless, leaning against the open door. Strangely, nervously I chuckled, avoiding the deeper, piercing aspect of such an unusual question.
Finally I uttered rambling clumsy words
"Publishing... books... magazines..."
Long pause.
"And what do you do?" I asked. I can't believe what I just asked.
"Observe and assist."
(The most random answer I could have expected from the tattered man at the corner of 8th and Commerce.)
"You've got a meeting- you're probably late."
"Yeah," I said and then I stopped before entering.
"How did you know about a meeting?"
"It's pretty obvious." he said. "I've been inside before."
"You have?"
"A few times as times go."

I couldn't to continue this discussion. Already 2 minutes late I slipped through the door and mumbled a few parting syllables.

When I sat down in the meeting, (The parade of flow charts and sales reports) it occurred to me-- the last few words from the ragged stranger. "What did he say as I walked inside?" (Cold, torn, relaxed, poor, at peace). Did he actually say he'd see me soon? Did he actually call me by my middle name?"