Whenever he walked and was not otherwise engaged or in a new place (and sometimes even then), he re-saw the world. Usually in fantastic ways.

The tiny shoe repair place notched into the retaining wall under the bridge had very special shoes and its slender attendant, when seen in those threshold moments of sunsets and midnights, was decidedly un-ordinary. The newsstand down the street from the shop sold not just newspapers and magazines, but dark, mythic information as well – if you asked in the right way and when standing in the right spot. And payment was never monetary.

He too became not as he seemed, and when the shoe-repairess and the news peddler met his eyes, he wondered if they too experienced this deeper knowledge. He hoped so, hoped for the reciprocity and mutual understanding.

As he stooped to collect his dog’s leavings, he wondered if one day one of them might give him a glance to follow or a note with instructions, something that would lead him into their hidden world.