Sometimes i see my dad on the street, riding a pushbike, in line at
the grocery store or walking a dog along the path. He never owned a dog
himself, or for that matter rode a bike, at least as far as i know. It
never is him of course, and it's not neccesarily that these men look
like him, but they all do share a quiet sense of despair and loss. A
feeling that the world has given up on them and that nothing works in
their favour. And if by chance something does, it goes unnoticed and
does nothing to quench the bitterness that they feel in the world.