Tiny Cog woke up as the morning sluice from the nearby factory ran through the gutter and floated his hand. The pavement was warm. People were stepping over him, and this was not something unique to his prone state – step around is the same as step over. People can throw a smile at you and make you invisible.
He walked along the pavement, and he saw an old lady struggling with her groceries. For a second he worried that she might perceive a threat in him, but the fact that he saw her, and did not look past her, erased that consideration. They both saw each other.
‘What is your name, my friend?’
‘Tiny Cog,’ he answered.
She smiled. ‘They call me Oil.’
‘I’m glad I could help you.’
‘I was waiting for you. So many blind men walking around today. You are a King, my friend.’
He smiled. What a strange day. Start in the gutter and end as a King. He shook Oil’s hand; she grabbed it and pulled him close, and she hugged him. Some of the blind stopped and saw two invisible people appear in their space.