I met Gary on a lovely day. The sun shone, birds twittered and midges bit.
But Gary just looked down in the dumps.
'What's up, mate?' I asked.
Gary said nothing, his shoulders slumped in defeat, his eyes clouded, unseeing.
A lifetime of excess, abuse both physical and mental had taken a visual toll that was unmistakable. Dirty, disheveled and unloved, that was Gary. And in truth, it was hard to love him in this state. Get a grip, clean up your act, DO something with your life forchristsake, I wanted to scream at him.
But I didn't. I did nothing but shrug helplessly and walk away. I doubt he'll ever fly again.