Stranger

He wrings his hands, picks at his cuticles; the battle scars on his arms proof of a war fought inside.

Perched upon the edge of the bench, ready to flee at a moment’s notice, he stares.

Not at anything in particular, just gazes into the abyss, lost in his own thoughts.

You can almost hear them.

Worthless. Useless. Hopeless.

You take a deep breath, savoring the crisp fall air, and let it out in a warm puff, proof of your being.

You make your way over to the lonely bench where he sits, waiting. You take a seat next to him as he snaps his head up; wary. Hurt deeply. Who did this?

His eyes meet yours in an instant. Blue mixes with green, hiding the pain that resides inside. But you can see it.

You can see the shards of doubt pierced into his soul, the scars of shame laced among the shreds of fear.

But there is something else in there. Shrouded behind the terrible despair is a small flicker of hope and resilience. So small that he may not even know it’s there.

But you do. And though this man is a stranger, you cannot let him suffer, not when you can help.

You open your mouth, and with it comes one simple word: “Hello.”