I didn’t recognize him at first, thinking him just a tired businessman coming home after a long day. It wasn’t until I came closer that I saw the telltale signs; his greasy hair hung low over his eyes, the left pant leg had a tear up the side. At one time he was a proud businessman, now a shell of whom he once was, trying to hang on to what is left of his dignity. He still wore penny loafers and a button-up shirt tucked into his slacks. When the train’s doors -whooshed- open he shuffled into the car and sat down dejectedly, not looking anyone in the eyes. Everyone around him ignored his presence. I couldn’t help but wonder what he was like before. Did he have a family? How did he lose it all? What keeps him going? Even now as I sit in my warm, comfortable apartment some 5 hours later, I wonder where he is and my heart goes out to him.