The sun beat down through the trees as they walked away from the car. The heat was everywhere. Seeping through their clothes, barely half a minute after they got out of the car. Drawing out the last wisps of cool, airconditioned air from their skin. The heat!

They looked around as they turned to cross over. Just then, one of them was tapped on his arm

"Can you help me cross the road, please?"

An old man. Neatly dressed, his unremarkable shirt tucked into his unremarkable trousers. Holding a tripod cane.

They obliged immediately. As one stopped traffic and guided him with his shoulder, the other held him by the hand and walked him across.

He began to talk to them. As is the wont of old men. He used to be a doctor once.

"Now he'll want some money", one of them thought. "To 'get home' because he 'lost' his wallet."

"I used to treat people, often for free. I must have operated on atleast fifty people. I saved their limbs. I gave them the chance to walk again."

He didn't want anything, except to say what he had to say.

"I have no one today. And I'm paralysed."

He just wanted someone to say it to.

"God has cursed me."

His voice cracked. Tears.

They walked away from him, as the sun beat down through the trees.

"When I find out all the reasons

Maybe I'll find another way
Find another day
With all the changing seasons of my life
Maybe I'll get it right next time
An now that you've been broken down
Got your head out of the clouds
You're back down on the ground
And you don't talk so loud
An you don't walk so proud anymore..."