HE FED HIS DOGS BEFORE HIMSELF—BUT WHAT WAS IN HIS BAG TOLD A DIFFERENT STORY
I passed him every morning near the metro station—same tree, same tattered blanket, same two dogs curled like puzzle pieces in his lap. He never asked for anything. Just sat there, quietly, stroking their ears while the city rushed past. Today, though, I slowed down. I don’t know why. Maybe it was the way one…