Glenn G. Coats
He stands on the curb and looks down at his shoes. His arms lay flat against his sides and he does not wave at the passing cars or point at the Payday Loans store behind him. The young man looks uncomfortable in the green sack. No-one honks their horn or shouts “Great Costume” out the window. No-one pauses on the sidewalk and asks, “Who are you supposed to be?” The mid-day sun is unbearable and he must be roasting in that outfit. He knows that if he doesn’t dress up like a fifty dollar bill—somebody else will.
clouds too thin