Like I've said before, there are regulars at Liberty Park. I see them summer after summer--walking, biking, roller-blading, running. And I've written before about the Latino man who ran around the edge of the park at high speed while wearing tight jeans. We always waved and smiled at each other, and sometimes he wondered aloud about my shoes. As in, "Where are your shoes?"
I used to wonder about him, too. Who was he? What was his back story? Why was he exercising every morning in his (most likely) work clothes? Was he staying in shape for something? Like soccer games with friends? Or did he just like to run? To own the morning for himself with no demands made on his time and on his person? One thing's for sure--there was always a certain joy in his movement. You could see that joy in the way he moved his arms and his legs.
But I haven't seen him this year. Not even once.
Where is he?
Did something happen? Did he move? Is he sick? Is somebody in his family sick? Did he die?
I hate it when my stories are sad.