it was strange  but he lived for strangefor the unexpectedfor the obscure that didnt cost an arm or a leg(others fascinated the wealthy who opened their purses and let money to their perchance because they were tagged expensive
so expensive that only they could afford  and they pissed away money which others didnt have or couldnt afford to waste  hot hands yanking cocks in the back of leatherseated limousines or slipperyfast quibbling fingers at clits)  

he supposed rare gratifications might be called luxury

a man walking a bicycle crossed in front of him on the road as they swapped sides of the street

they crossed left shoulders sixty seventy metres from one another  and walking up alongside their respective curbs in opposite directions the bike-walker called to him  Were you in the service

NO

he may have said it too abruptlyhe took offence being misconstrued a pawn

perhaps it only sounded so in his ears  a dogs bark  whistle

                                              but he was reading

and holding a book in front of ones face shouldnt be difficult to miss

they continued walking unspoken in opposite directions

THEN

            a good ten minutes later walking on the towns main thoroughfareMain Street for all intent and purposeswalking in the bike lane he glanced up ahead to see a sunburnt man sitting on a bench at a bus stop

when he walked up so that he was alongside the sunburnt man he heard him say to him Good morning sir  and looking up out of his book to his right to acknowledge the Good morning he saw that the man was sitting erectprior he was sloughing  he held his hand crisply in a salute his fingers at the edge of the visor of his ballcap 

there was an anticipation in his eyes  as if he expected a snappy salute in return

he said Good morning 

                  he wasnt into the fraud of saluting when he hadnt and wouldnt have submitted to military service submitted to being a GI  government-issued  property of the State

Fuck you

1438,  Monday,  27  3. 17

1394 days or less remaining

“ ‘Our doubts are traitors and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt,’ ” or so says Lucio in William Shakespeare’s Measure For Measure. (the fear of failure atychiphobia can weigh heavy on a person’s shoulders)  found here: http://drownedinsound.com/in_depth/4150896-far-from-a-minor-life--dis-meets-sir-was