January 8, 2022 - There is a man in a navy blue bomber jacket with white khakis and white socks who keeps standing across the street outside of Shelia’s window.

There is a man in a navy blue bomber jacket with white khakis and white socks who keeps standing across the street outside of Shelia’s window. He smokes cigarettes and holds a navy umbrella whenever it rains. He probably works at the coffee shop around the corner, although he isn’t patient enough to work at a coffee shop. He is very fidgety with his hand movements ––– always closing and then only a few moments later opening the umbrella again. Often, between puffs of cigarettes he is zipping or unzipping his navy bomber jacket, regardless of the weather. It might be a tic or something.

One time when Shelia was getting off the bus at the corner around the way from her apartment she saw the man reading a National Geographic magazine and smoking a cigarette. It was after sunset and the coffee shop was closed, but he was still standing there beneath one of the yellow street lamps: standing and smoking and reading. Shelia nodded hello to him and said good evening in a very low voice. He looked up from his magazine at the same time as Shelia had looked over at him so their eyes did meet for a very little while.

Once Shelia was inside her apartment again she closed the door behind her and before she took off her jacket she set her hand on her heart. She wasn’t sure why. This man in the navy bomber jacket did not scare her. He did not frighten her. He was fidgety and stood on a street corner without any regard for time and without any purpose, but he was not unkind.

Later that night Shelia was cleaning up after dinner. She had made a big pot of Spaghetti that she hoped would last through the weekend. She was standing in front of the sink in her kitchen and washing the baking tray where she had prepared the meatballs and tomato sauce. It was April and she had left one of the windows in her bedroom open so a little bit of the balmy spring air would fall into her place.

She found herself thinking about him and guessed that his name was either Keith or Karl. He wasn’t tall enough to be named Keith, but Shelia thought that he may have an older brother who was much taller, Kenneth, and that their mother thought Keith (or Karl) would grow up to be just as tall. Shelia though Keith’s mother’s thought about her second son’s height was within reason. If one son was tall then the next son would likely be tall as well. After Shelia finished drying the baking tray she decided that when she saw the man in the navy bomber jacket again she’d ask for his name.