Jim Dandy

Ever so carefully he swept the sidewalk, dressed in a threadbare suit, his feet covered by socks and rubber flip flops. He had the look of a well-kept bum, a 2-day shadow gracing his face. His sunken eyes watched the movement of his broom, back and forth, back and forth. Slowly the pendulum motion of the broom slowed. He bent down, fingered an object caught in his broom, then ever so gently picked a bird’s feather from the refuse, examined it, then gingerly placed it in his left breast pocket before continuing, swish, whoosh, swish, whoosh…

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