I’m walking home from work,
A quarter of a mile stretched ahead of me
And I see a dark figure in the distance. 
It looks like a person
But no. It’s too still to be a person. 
Maybe it’s an unusually large piece of trash. 
I’m coming closer now.
And still have no idea what this thing is.
A large tree stump?
A mishaped refridgerator box?
A time machine?

I make out the contours of human shoulders
Behind which a head is tucked so low
You can barely see it. 
It is a man. 
He’s just standing there with his back to me,
Right in the middle of the sidewalk. 
I mumble a tentative greeting as I pass by,
Trying to determine 
whether or not he is some sort of zombie. 
He nods and says,
“Hey how you doin.”
As if nothing weird just happened.
And begins slowly shuffling his way down the sidewalk behind me.