What were the changes of me running into Crazy Homeless Guy the very next day after watching him get assaulted on the TTC? Yet there he was, milling about the St. George subway stop; I recognized him on account of the empty, black eyes. Once again, the overriding feeling was sadness–sadness at how this man’s journey could have ended up where it has, with him stumbling blindly around U of T campus barely twelve hours after getting the shit kicked out him on a Toronto subway. And our paths crossed not once but twice–just amazing. I feel like I’m a character in the musical Blood Brothers.
Addendum to Light Rail Coyotes