the tray didn't just hit the floor. it crashed and smashed his lunch to pieces. serves you damn well right, i thought. you were staring again.
he stood stock-still and looked down at the food. suddenly i got up and moved towards him. i hadn't intended to, hadn't wanted to help him. i called to the woman behind the counter. she closed her mouth and brought a cloth to clean up the mess. i picked up crockery, put it on the tray. there was a soppy stain on his trousers and through it you could see just how bony his knees were. like the rest of him. all bones, dangling jacket and hanging trousers. stooped shoulders and mile-long arms. then he smiled at me.
