“I think I just met the happiest person in the world!”

Richmond Spile exclaimed in his disgusting judgemental brain. Disgusting because the sight of a man who clearly has very little but a toothless smile and worn tweed jacket is SMILING!

“HAPPINESS!?,when your walking talking filth?”, this offended him even more than the barista mis spelling his name. “ You know if you learnt to spell maybe you wouldn’t be a fucking barista!”. He bathed in the glares and stares of fellow customers as he walked out with a smile on his face.

He breathed in the morning air which was poisoned by the “stench” of two homeless men sitting on sleeping bags across the street. One of them was the happy toothless one in tweed. “AND AGAIN SMILING!”, he thought to himself smelling his coffee to block out the stench that he’s made up in his brain to be worse than it is, he’s tempted to go up and say something. To remind them where they are in life and how they’re looking. He chooses to instead watch from afar like watching gorillas in an enclosure throwing shit at each other

The man in tweed shakes the hand of the other homeless man and places a cigarette in his mouth and lights it. They give each other a nod and a smile and he walks of. Then he looks at Richmond across the street, gives him a nod and the flick of an imaginary cap to say “Good day”.

“Cheeky bastard”, Richmond hisses in a low tone just in case he hears him. Richmond doesn’t know why but he feels almost glued to the man, intrigued like a birdwatcher is to…well a bird a I guess. He follows him, wanting to see how he spends his morning.

That morning the man in tweed must have met countless more homeless people. Even ones who were hiding in discreet parts of town Richmond didn’t know existed. Richmond was a small man so even though his flashy and sharp suit screams against the background of filth he was always well hidden. With every encounter the man in tweed gives a smile, asks how they’re day is, really cares to listen and before he leaves hands a cigarette. “No money but can afford cigarettes”, he scoffs watching from a far as the man in tweed says his goodbyes then suddenly RING RING! Richmond almost falls over as he scampers for his phone to switch it off. He is extremely late to his office, the fascination of the man in tweed as taken up more time than he would like. “For gods sake!”, he exclaims as he finally turns it off.

“You okay friend?”

Richmond looks up, their he stands before him, the man in tweed. His eyes are kind with a twinkle, dirt cemented in the creases and lines of his face. His smile toothless but the sincerity of it makes it surprisingly comforting.

“Um yes just lost I guess” Richmond lies, backing away slowly like the man in tweed is a big cat ready to pounce. He does pounce, well walks slowly and puts a arm around him. Richmond shivers but can’t help but comply in fear of being eaten alive.

Richmond and the man in tweed walk through the busy streets, many faces rush past them, all with somewhere to be, anxious,worried and moving so fast. Richmond and the man in tweed in contrast walk very slowly. The man in tweed says something to Richmond to actually make him smile, I mean the whole world should implode just at the thought.

Now it pains me to say but I don’t know what the man in tweed was saying to make these polar opposites in style and class from a far seem…friends.

That is something for you and me to figure out, maybe the man in tweed highlighted the fact we don’t know the strangers we judge, maybe the reason he smiles is because he himself is at piece, therefore everyone around him is “Friend”. Still from afar we view like birdwatchers. The man in tweed offers a cigarette, Richmond shakes his head as if to say “ I don’t smoke”, the man in tweed smiles again shakes his head, touches his chest and mouths “Breathe”. Richmond does this, the world around him slows down and he weeps his clean face in the dirty clothes of the man in tweed.