Findin' out how to do a blogger post.
Free-Write, ten minutes, don't move to hawaii. We passed him three times that week---It was a busy week and we drove past costco more than usual, or we might not have noticed. The first time you see someone walking beside the road, if you’re going to other direction, you might note them, but not stop. The second time, two days later, it seemed a little strange: Same clothing, a white shirt, shorts, and worn tennis shoes. The third time, we stopped, got a better look--He didn’t want a ride, refused to make eye contact, blue eyes wild and darting from side to side, gesticulating at nothing, no verbal answer, just a shaken head and resolutely walking forward. Asking about him, later, it seemed he’d been walking (and re-walking, and re-walking, that same stretch of highway every day.) He would walk up one side of the road, and back, spending the entire day under the sun, and from most accounts, the entire day waving his hands frantically, and always, always, always, refu