I saw him on a train in the former Soviet Union — Moscow, I think.
Then I saw him about two weeks later on another train — or maybe it was the same one, I don’t remember. I remember thinking it was strange that I’d see the same man more than once in a city so large.
The second time I saw him, I smiled and nodded my head toward him in greeting. He shook his head ‘no,’ and put his hand up.
To stop my greeting, I think.
It was sad. He had large, hard bumps all over his head and face.
He looked like he needed a friend.