Backpack Guy

I went outside today to take a late lunch break.  I went straight to my car and got in it.  To sit and just be brainless for a minute.  No real reason.  I just wanted fresh air outside of the building and no phone answering or phone call making or note documenting.  Just nothing.  Thoughtless.

I was reclined a bit in the driver’s seat looking downward.  Contemplating a nap.  Something moved in my peripheral vision.  I looked up and saw him.  I didn’t really pay much attention.  It’s becoming a very common sight.  I looked back down.  Still contemplating a quick sleep.  Or eye closing at the very least.

Backpack Guy

He was just walking up the street.  Not in a hurry.  One of the Backpack Guys.  It’s a name I use because I like it better than the other names.  Though it means the same thing when applied.   I don’t mean any harm by it.  And I don’t mean any judgment by it.  Because I don’t know the story.  It’s just a description in my head.

I looked back up.

Backpack Guy MovingWithout really paying attention I took note that he was just a little further up the street.

Personally I love backpacks.  I take one with me every where I go.  There was one with me in the car at lunch.   And it sits here at my feet while I type this.

Backpack Guy Still

But I don’t have everything I own in my backpack.  There’s no way it would fit.  And I affectionately call them “packpacks” because that is what they were called by a lovely little child who is part of my world.   And she has packpacks for school.

Not being able to make myself close my eyes I notice Backpack Guy has walked past the parked cars.

Past The Cars

I reach in to my backpack and pull out my sketch book.   And I drew the top figure in this post.   Because I wanted to see if I could.  Draw a backpack.   On a guy.

I looked up and wondered how much time I had left.   I looked at the time on my phone.   I had used up almost ten minutes trying to draw a backpack on a guy.


It wasn’t until I had put my sketch book back in my back pack.  Shoved it behind the seat.  Got out of my car.   And walked inside.  That I registered the last sight I had of him.

The backpack guy was walking away.  Fading.

Far Away From The Problems

I had noticed him.

But I’m not so sure I really saw him.