I hear him before I see who it is…

Unconsciously, I know who it is.

He arrived in the neighborhood a few months back. He’s young, maybe 20, and angry.

I try to get close enough to hear the details of his rage but not too close. I lose this battle to more street noise. His arms are waving, and he is yelling his thoughts… then he goes quiet and continues pacing Queen Street.

I want to know his past without being part of his future.

“Impossible” I tell myself and move on.