A Fixture by C. T., Methuen, MA

He lay down on pavement gray and cold, blending into this harsh scenery, a fixture. I was a little boy. I was bewildered and a little scared. I took a closer look and saw he was sleeping. I wondered what the hell he was, what was this guy doing sleeping in the middle of the sidewalk. He was just a body lying there, not even really a body, but more like a monotone lump of concrete left from when the sidewalk was made, overlooked and forgotten. I didn't know what he was and I didn't care, I kept on walking through a world I didn't make or understand but whose rules a little boy followed.