January 20

The winter doesn’t touch him.

All year long he lumbers around town in his blue Hawaiian shorts, his legs like two big blotchy trunks. Always carrying the same bag of shopping. His breathing looks laboured and he walks with a jolt that turns his wide shoulders into a slope.

He is in pain; his legs look sore. He must be cold but he never seems to mind. Perhaps that open, flapping coat is enough.

No one knows.

Him.

Or cares.

He is just The Man Who Wears Shorts All Year Round. A passing snigger on the stage of everyday.