Seth

The white ring of hair around his otherwise naked head gave the illusion of a halo; which was completely appropriate. There was no kinder gentleman in the town. Regardless of the temperatures, he would walk to the corner grocery in his vest, tie, sport coat and, of course, his hat (which he tipped to each passerby).

Some only knew him as "the butcher" from Quality Meats. Many called him "that sweet old man in the hat." Most, however, knew him by name. He'd lived here for most of his life. Eighty-eight years. And he still walked to work every single day.