On Saturday morning around 7 o'clock, I was awakened by someone screaming.He was a pale man, with big dark eyes and messy hair. In my head he looked like Serious Black, or at least as I had imagined him while I read the book.
He was wearing a plain grey long sleeved t-shirt a little darker at the top where the rain had wet him. A pair of dark jeans and truth be told I can't remember what his shoes were like.
But it wasn't his appearance that surprised me; it was what he was doing that did. He was standing in the rain screaming at the police, insulting them. Again and again he screamed out "There is no justice in this world".
He stood proud, with his dark messy hair high and crossed arms, as if he were ready for anything and scared of nothing.
There he stood, and then he had a meltdown. He started to whimper in silence as tears fell down his pale cheeks. Then suddenly he stopped, dried his tears and carried on just standing there, waiting.
Most people walked by and looked at him as if he were crazy, but truthfully what is crazy? Someone that stands up to what they think is right? Someone that claims to see or know what the rest of us don't?
He wasn't crazy. Not to me at least.
.JPG)