I was looking down now. So high up the silence was nearly deafening. The platform held still floating inside the cloudy atmosphere. The occasional creak a reminder the world was still at work. I looked down and knew postively that he was looking up. “What will you do?”, I wondered aloud.

[scene switches to a town just outside of the desert]

The dot began to draw nearer. I had seen it approaching for quite some time. I wondered what could possibly keep moving forward in heat like this. As I patted myself with my shirt I looked back up to notice the shape had stopped for the first time and began to look upwards. It was breif, as if it was deciding whether or not to coninue. Another hour passed and I realized it was infact a man. The shape was now only a mile off and already I could makeout that the man was carrying a large duffel bag on the right shoulder. He had unkept hair and wore slacks with a slight oversized and worn shirt. Now only a ways off I heard him humming in perfect step with the scratch and kick of his boots. He was smiling.
He was boyish, almost juvenille in his ways. Smiling from ear to ear, hands waving with each word said, and never losing eye contact. His eyes were unquestioning. They seemed to accept without effort. One could not really determine if there was thought behind them or not. Honestly, it wasn’t of much consequence. In ten minutes the man had made a friend out of me. The first I have had in many years seeing as I wasn’t much for people. I looked at him and smiled back.

[scene switches to the dinner table much later that night]

“How long has it been since you’ve eaten”, I said.
“I’m starving”, he said as if I had not asked him anything.
“I hope stew is alright it’s been quite some time since I’ve had anyone suffer my cooking”, I said.
” I humbly accept the challenge.”, he replied.
At this I smiled. He was an idiot I thought to myself. A delightful fool. I knew that wasn’t exactly the case however. The man looked like perhaps he was involved in something that may not be easily explained. I felt as if I should ask anyway.
“Where do you come from?”, I said.
He looked up with a smile.
“Good people.”

Even though I was frustrated at his total lack of transparency I couldn’t help but laugh. He began laughing too. I told him I would put him up for that night but after that he must be on his way. I explained I didn’t want to get used to his company anytime soon. He put his hand on my shoulder and made his way up the stairs obviously full from dinner.
As I lay there at night I began to wonder about him. Was he asleep? Was he dreaming? Where did he come from and why would he walk through such a desert by himself? I feel asleep full of questions like this.

[scene switches to his dream]

I see him as a child. There are two children actually. The younger one is obviously the man at my house but it’s unclear who the second is. They seem to be related. Perhaps even brothers. There was a discussion happening, but not one of children. Words like nature and intolerance lept out. There was passion in both of them but I could barely hear anything. Suddenly the older child slammed his book down in a great rage.

[scene switches back to the man's room]

As I awoke my room was full with light from the day. I walked into the stranger’s room to find his bed neatly made. The white cottons getting warmer each minute with help from the window. It was quiet. I made my way downstairs and looked about. I ventured out onto the porch to see if perhaps he hadn’t left yet. I found a note under the doormat.
“Thank you for your generosity. You are a good man. Get a wife.”
I looked out at the direction he came from and then I looked up. The feeling that some giant wheel was turning overwhelmed me. I decided it was the heat.