* * * *
I decided to remain silent and let the stranger make the first move. It would give him the upper hand and hopefully make him feel more comfortable and in charge of the situation.
“You live around here?” he asked, his voice rough and full of grit, like the man himself. He was probably a drifter—a bum on wheels. Didn’t bother me. Sometimes all you could do to escape your past was roam.
“Yup.”
“Know a place I can clean up? Maybe earn some cash?” He ran a hand through shoulder-length, messy, dirty-blond hair with streaks of gray. The sun had fully risen now and I could make out more details about his appearance.