He was the delivery guy, dressed as only he could be on a day where temperatures topped 100 degrees: brown shirt, brown shorts, brown socks. He must have just gotten off work, because I saw him standing next to a little car, which was cluttered on the inside.
The guy himself was probably close to 50 years old, with dark hair and a mustache. I asked to pray for him and got the dull, questioning stare. I told him about my project. "Well, sure," the guy said, standing with one foot in his car, ready to bolt at any moment. It wasn't an enthusiastic response, but he did let me bow and pray. So I did. Then he was gone.
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