After leaving Mr. Smith's restaurant, Teacher Prin walked alone along the street; compared to the pedestrians, he seemed more like a traveler.
He would take in all the forms of everything around him.
The light in the shop windows, people's reflections on the glass, or a whole family in a restaurant, or perhaps something else… anything else that moved.
At the traffic light, Teacher Prin stood on the pedestrian side waiting; beside him sat an old man with a head of white hair—he was truly, truly old, the age spots on his face were even a grayish color.
The old man's family were buying something at the newsstand behind him.
"Good evening." Teacher Prin watched the changing lights on the traffic signal pole across the street; he did not look back, just offered this greeting to the old man in the wheelchair.
