This morning, around two o’clock, I heard a noise outside my window coming from the street below. There are no street lamps where my window looks out but I could still make out the silhouette of a rather unsavory man. He was sitting in the middle of the street, just sitting, he seemed to rock slightly, from side to side. This man looked very unfortunate.

Time passed and he still sat and I still watched him. I am unsure of what I found so interesting about this man that I could barely tell apart from the darkness. Maybe it was the fact that he seemed lost, maybe not. I watched him. Around about four o’clock he began to hum. I could hardly hear it but he was humming, Quiet but constant.

I guess I fell asleep because the next thing I remember was waking up to the sun barely touching the tops of the trees to my left. He was gone. The unfortunate man was gone. I felt the lack of his presence immediately. I searched the gloom, from my window, trying to find his form in the slight mist that always seems to cloak the ground at this time in the morning. He was gone. I wonder how he left? If he simply made a decision, stood and walked away. Or maybe he ran. Maybe he crawled, pressured by the struggles of his unfortunate life. Or maybe he crept into the darkness, afraid of the light that would expose his failing as a human being. Maybe he is sitting in the old, condemned house right across from my window, I am sure it’s pretty dark in there. O r maybe he just disappeared. In the early watches of the morning he simply went. Maybe he disappeared the moment I fell asleep. Maybe he was just there just because I needed to feel a presence. Perhaps he saved me. Maybe he was an an angel. An unfortunate angel.
I like that.