I looked up from behind my computer--my computer which holds all the woes and sorrows from the past three months of job-hunting--because he had caught my eye. If it weren't for the smell, one would think he'd been born from a cloud of dust. Oblivious to the colorful life around him, he reached into the slit of the trashcan, and I winced. As he found his lunch as casually as teenagers find love, I tried to imagine what could possibly happen for my own life's path to swerve to match his, but it was about as futile as the deaf wondering what it's like to hear. He walked away, muttering incoherencies, off to fight the cold. As for me, I found it hard to look at my computer any more that day, but not so hard to live.