The old man shuffles along the sidewalk, rummaging in his plastic bag. He glances cheerfully from side to side, then down into his sack. What treasures have we here, my sweet? White hair stands out from side to side around his jolly, weathered face, a bit like Frankenstein gone mad. A grey jacket dangles over one arm, his paunch contentedly covered by a half-buttoned plaid shirt. Curly white hair peeks out from where the shirt buttons end. He shuffles some more, his feet shod in scruffy leather shoes. He peers out again, twinkles in his eye. Though he has no home to go to, he is truly satisfied.
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