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.


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