A lonely man leans up against a brick wall. Streetlights dot his view, obscured by fog and rain. He clutches his old, ragged jacket close. People hurry by, eyes down, heads bent against the storm. They don't notice the poor man, hidden from view.
A lonely man sits in an airport terminal, slaving over his laptop. Surrounded by other strangers. Everyone has someplace to go, someplace to be. No one living in the now. Planes come and go. The man remains, lost in time.
A lonely man lays down for another night's sleep. T.V.s blare from the apartment upstairs. Radios crackle next door. He stares up at his ceiling, thinking about all the paths not taken. The sun comes up, the man stays in bed.
A man sleeps out under the stars. Surrounded by the sounds of nature, away from all things man. He is at peace with all the world.