Alien Donut Man, Part II
But as the days passed and I walked by more often than usual, his absence made me sad at first, then worried.
I've always worried about him. He just seems like such a fish out of water, a lonely man (alien? Not alien? Only he knows for sure) sitting by himself in the middle of the donut shop.
I would slow my pace as I got to the corner to make sure I wouldn't miss him.
Last week my efforts were finally, thankfully rewarded.
There he was, in his usual blue windbreaker, sitting ramrod straight in his seat with his Styrofoam cup of coffee and his donuts laid out on top of a napkin.
I peered at him and then looked away before he could catch my eye.