dulce de leche

I spot a white parsons desk on the street. It’s spotless and firm.  I go home and get a tape measure and find it fits like a glove in my foyer, replacing a makeshift table. I begin to walk it home.  It’s heavy and makes me realize how not strong I am anymore. A very handsome young couple - he’s from Portugal, she’s from Serbia, ask me if I need help. I say no at first - even though it’s obvious I do. They move the table into my apartment with me.  I tell them how lovely and kind they are and I wish they had stayed for a while for coffee or tips on what to do in the city. I tell them I'll pay it forward. Restored my faith in how wonderful some/most people are.  I didn’t want them to leave. 

I go out for coffee this morning. Seven year old next door neighbor Felix says I haven’t left him any gifts lately. I tell him I’ll see what I can do. I ask a guy on the street who asked for a dollar if  he needed a warm coat.  He says oh, man, yes. I give him two, one super warm, the kind construction workers wear, some bread and cheese, a blanket and a scarf. He tells me his name is Wheel and I can remember him because - he points to it - he’s only got one eye. He lives on the street down the block and he says to me … when you see me, you don’t have to give me anything.  Just say hello.