Out of the darkness, a pair of white tennis shoes appear in the corner, illuminated by some magical strip of light. They are patiently, patiently, ever so patiently waiting.
Upward, dark jeans, black jacket, a bag… once invisible in their angled darkness, they solemnly allow their existence to be known with a quiet and easy surprise attack.
A man. Looking at nothing, waiting for something that will come no time soon, he stands still with the time, innerly… something…, outwardly stoical against the near-bitter cold.
This I see as I grumble home in my near hallucinations of aches and pains at 5am.