There's a bloke I first saw around here more than 30 years ago. A tall and stringy teenager. He'd appear at a local intersection, but wouldn't cross it. Perhaps his mum told him only go to the corner today. He would have a little radio in his hand and look like he was laughing - slapping his leg then throwing his head back, mouth open in great delight, and then bending forward holding his stomach and bending one knee. Maybe someone inside his head was telling him the greatest joke of all time.
Another time you'd see him walking. Miles away. Always at an urgent pace, with long purposeful strides. You could see him twice in one day many miles apart striding it out, sometimes running.
As the years went past I saw him doing the same from time to time, but getting more grey haired without looking any older.
And then for some years I didn't see him and forgot about him.
Now he's turned up again - laughing at an intersection - albeit now with earphone buds - or striding it out with purpose.
He's still tall and stringy but his hair is dark again.
He looks just like he did 30 years ago.
