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Description
Standing on the sidewalk, soaked in sun, he stares in blank disinterest at only what is directly before him. A bead of sweat falls through the abundant, dust crusted cracks that canyoned his brow out from his forehead.
His expression grudgingly explained the gratuitous monotony that he carries with every forgetable moment he occupies. The slick, thick coating of sweat that wandered lazily from behind his ears to the base of his back would lead passers by to assume that he had been standing on that corner for a very, very long time.
Wrapped bulgingly in his orange, tweed sportscoat, collared together with a yellow stained tie, he was properly prepared for the best day of his life. Occasionally birds would perch upon his shoulders, or mice would escape the elements within the holes of his shoes. He was waiting for something.
A voice, coarse and quiet, echoed elastic through the empty expases between his ears. "Maybe it's not coming..."
His shoulders collapsed with a deep, crackly sigh and drifted down his back. He lifted up his feet from the pavement with a sticky peeling sound, coupled with that of surprised, scattering insects and rodents which had come to find shelter in his socks and pant legs.
Excreting thundercloud plumes of the dust collected between the creases in his clothing as he lumberly drifted around to wander off, a sound tickled it's way through the bricks of the building beside him.
A whistling. Distant at first, but slowly swelling into a roar so immense it shook the pavement into vibrations, sending pebbles dancing and shingles splashing to the ground. The man looked to his side, shaken into awareness for the first time in ages.
Behind the brick wall next to him the sound grew deafeningly close, rattling sediment from the stone. He placed his hand quietly against it's quivering surface and exhaled the words "It's here", half an instant before the bricks shifted,opening in a wide, deep yawn and coughing forth a screaming, howling, twitching train that barreled head first into him. His body exploded into shapelessness, sending his so thoughtfully chosen garments scattering through the clouds and into the street.
The wall opposite shuffled it's side to form a new orifice that the train hurriedly blasted into towards non-existence, followed shortly by the hole through which it shot. The whistling and rumbling subsided, and just as instantly as it came, all returned to what it had been.
Passers by flickered and sparked at what they had unexpectedly witnessed. There was no evidence present to explain why what just happened happened, except the empty disregarded clothes and a hovering shroud of dust slowly settling on top of them. The unusual man that many of them had awkwardly noticed during their past pacings of this street was suddenly gone. His corner vacant. Most forgot about him as quickly as he went, but a few began thinking about what had just happened. Fewer even came to question it. But for just a couple, the curiosity consumed them, haunted and followed them everywhere they would go. Before long, they too would be picking their finest clothes from their closet.

Description
Standing on the sidewalk, soaked in sun, he stares in blank disinterest at only what is directly before him. A bead of sweat falls through the abundant, dust crusted cracks that canyoned his brow out from his forehead.
His expression grudgingly explained the gratuitous monotony that he carries with every forgetable moment he occupies. The slick, thick coating of sweat that wandered lazily from behind his ears to the base of his back would lead passers by to assume that he had been standing on that corner for a very, very long time.
Wrapped bulgingly in his orange, tweed sportscoat, collared together with a yellow stained tie, he was properly prepared for the best day of his life. Occasionally birds would perch upon his shoulders, or mice would escape the elements within the holes of his shoes. He was waiting for something.
A voice, coarse and quiet, echoed elastic through the empty expases between his ears. "Maybe it's not coming..."
His shoulders collapsed with a deep, crackly sigh and drifted down his back. He lifted up his feet from the pavement with a sticky peeling sound, coupled with that of surprised, scattering insects and rodents which had come to find shelter in his socks and pant legs.
Excreting thundercloud plumes of the dust collected between the creases in his clothing as he lumberly drifted around to wander off, a sound tickled it's way through the bricks of the building beside him.
A whistling. Distant at first, but slowly swelling into a roar so immense it shook the pavement into vibrations, sending pebbles dancing and shingles splashing to the ground. The man looked to his side, shaken into awareness for the first time in ages.
Behind the brick wall next to him the sound grew deafeningly close, rattling sediment from the stone. He placed his hand quietly against it's quivering surface and exhaled the words "It's here", half an instant before the bricks shifted,opening in a wide, deep yawn and coughing forth a screaming, howling, twitching train that barreled head first into him. His body exploded into shapelessness, sending his so thoughtfully chosen garments scattering through the clouds and into the street.
The wall opposite shuffled it's side to form a new orifice that the train hurriedly blasted into towards non-existence, followed shortly by the hole through which it shot. The whistling and rumbling subsided, and just as instantly as it came, all returned to what it had been.
Passers by flickered and sparked at what they had unexpectedly witnessed. There was no evidence present to explain why what just happened happened, except the empty disregarded clothes and a hovering shroud of dust slowly settling on top of them. The unusual man that many of them had awkwardly noticed during their past pacings of this street was suddenly gone. His corner vacant. Most forgot about him as quickly as he went, but a few began thinking about what had just happened. Fewer even came to question it. But for just a couple, the curiosity consumed them, haunted and followed them everywhere they would go. Before long, they too would be picking their finest clothes from their closet.