Day in Downtown LA

          As I walk down the semi cold streets of Downtown Los Angeles, I  decided to stop for some coffee. Making a sharp left heading, towards the main street, the thought of something warm excites me. Sounds from people talking, ice being blended, and cashiers taking orders fill the air. Walking towards the cashier, as he greets you with …“ Hi, Welcome to Starbucks, may I take your order” I say, “ Hi can I get a grande hot caramel macchiato with extra caramel“ . The warmth of the Caramel Macchiato running down my throat as I drink it. Perfect for the type of weather I thought to my self.

          As I walk by myself, somewhere in the distance I sense movement. Anxiety and fear grew. I noticed the mans clothing, old green and blue shirt the old man wore seemed so thin, as if he wasn’t even wearing a shirt. His pants, old, dirty, with a big hole exposing a part of his frost bitten leg.  His shoes, they both had the biggest holes baring his toes. The only warm part of his body. His face; his beard, a long, thick, black and white. Seems as if he has been growing it for a while now. His beard blew along with the wind. Wrinkled, rubbery looking skin. as if he was in his 70’s, looks can be deceiving.

          The old man sat on a sleeping bag on top of a cardboard box. The man shivered, hugging his knees close to his chest to protect himself from the cold. His eyes. Black and hollow. His sight never left the pile of empty soda cans. A bent piece of cardboard box reading” I will work for food” leaned up against he dark drown bricks of wall. Not bothered by the rat that just ran over his foot. As still as a statute.  Ignorant to everything that was happening around him.

         I was frighten by him. I’ve never witnessed somebody so still through such conditions. Seems like he was frozen in time. I was afraid that we wasn’t breathing anymore.. the while situation reminded me of a horror movie; something bad and unexpected was sure to happen. The only thing that was missing was the scary music on the background that signified an upcoming death.

          Splattered over his head was a discolored liquid. It was blood. Who knows who it belonged to. I wondered if it was his own blood or if he had done something to somebody else. Seeing the patch of blood, I began to feel nauseous. I started to wonder if I was his next victim. If it was going to be my warm blood splattered on the walls. Panic began to set in, so many thoughts were going through my mind at that point. I had so many option; turn around and run. I figured I was loosing it. The way he sat there so motion less. I don’t even think he would have noticed me one way or the other.