A man I call Henry.

Today while I was walking Rōjin we passed a few boxes that had been next to the road for a few days now. Assorted old dishes and such nothing of importance. Earlier in the week when these boxes appeared there was a headboard too which has disappeared since as many things do.

I thought how my little neighborhood was funny, how they all seem to recycle furniture others have deemed no longer of use. I will see things move from house to house. Sometimes adopted for use by the kids in the area to create lemonade stands.

But then. Something felt wrong. These boxes were in front of “Henry’s” house. Henry as I call him…I don’t know his real name…is an older gentleman who sits every day it’s nice out in his blue lawn chair and reads. Rōjin and I often stop to say hello and he always would tell me how much he loves dogs.

I felt my stomach sink as I realized I’d not seen Henry in days. These couldn’t be his things could they?? Has my friend left…or worse???? We walked a little further and I could see Henry’s chair next to the stairs just as it always is. As we turned to head home there he was wandering back down the street with his cane. Relief washed over me.

I never realized how much I loved our little interactions. And I hope he does too. It was funny that someone I hardly know…who had touched my life in such a brief time had made such a big impact.

It was a nice feeling and a better start to my day.


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