Fate or the Fates or some old gods that people have forgotten about, or maybe just the balance of the universe maintaining its equilibrium, has brought us together yet again. I laugh to myself and smile.

The familiar face that just slimed onto the skytrain is the same piece of shit I bumped into at the library. He’s got a pep in his step. Freedom does that sometimes for those who have been incarcerated. It’s already crowded in here but with this newest addition it’s reached a whole new level of discomfort. A whole new depth of grime.

After our first chance encounter, I told myself that I would point out who he is every time I see him. I consider it a public service. I also consider that I will enjoy it each time.

I’m at the opposite end of the train though. I have to make my way across. Fate brought us together again, I know what it is that I must do to honour her.

He’s creeping out some young girl. She’s young, very young, and maybe doesn’t know what it is that’s standing in front of her being weird. But on some level she knows and tries to squirm toward the door. He keeps on looking, enjoying the view.

I say a few excuse me’s as I try to fit my wide frame through the herd. A few people exit and the young girl makes her way toward the middle of the train, away from him. She ends up right in front of me.

I remove an earphone and say “Hey.” She looks up at me and smiles, “Hi.” Up close I can see she’s younger than she looked and you can see the innocence in her eyes.

“See that guy over there?” I nod my head toward him.

She shivers and says quietly, shyly, shrinking away, “Yeah.”

“Watch this.” I say.

I face him, he’s a few seats away and standing there facing the centre of the train. A sense of pride is there that should be shame but people like this don’t have any. Shame is what keeps us human, he’s a perfect example of this.

I say his name loudly, happily, like we’re old friends.

He looks over with a big smile on his face. He didn’t realize that tomorrow always comes, that today is that tomorrow. I’m about to remind him.

I call him what he is. He turns to the door now and squeezes against it. He’s trying to burrow away like the creature he is. He doesn’t realize this is one of the longest stretches between stops and those doors, and the freedom he thought he had moments ago and now desperately craves, just closed. He’s beginning to realize that though. It’s not for him.

People keep looking at him while he tries to phase through the door. Eventually the door opens and he moves as fast as his little pathetic legs can carry him.

I wonder if that was his stop.