One night as I was walking home from the one (Thai) restaurant where I work now -- along major well-lit streets, as always, since I carry tips with me -- I am passing by a local church with a (modern architecture) wing where it was dug out around what was the basement story, to create sharp vinca-landscaped slopes that slope downward and have the walls there be glass that let the natural light in, and as I'm walking on the sidewalk by there, out of the darkness I hear a cough.
("Exactly what you want to hear when you're walking home at night," said someone at the local brewery, when I was telling them this story.)
Like several months after then, I've noticed that even during the day there's this (older) (bearded) (white) man with a knit hat pulled down over his ears, and he's just hanging out down there, alongside a tall round dark grey plastic garbage can on a small roller-cart, that appears to be full of (his?) stuff.
I've been varying my routes home at night, now.
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