The hunched back man
The hunched backed old man with the black overcoat passed by my frosty window just as he had every other Christmas night. I always wondered about the strange, unclean man. Every year around seven o'clock he would slowly stride down my street carrying a beat up old box in his left arm with a sparkle of hope in his eyes. I figured he was on his way back from the homeless shelter or the local hangout for the destitute, but in my upper-middle-class neighborhood, there wasn't any such place for milesThe year before I had waited for him. I had waited for him because I thought that he was Santa Clause and as soon as he appeared I was going to run outside and try to get a good look at him, possibly even talk to him. As the time passed by, I started to lose hope for him ever coming. But then around ten o'clock I saw him, with the same old box and the same old look in his eyes.The minuet I saw him, I ran from my window and swung open the oak, separating the inside from the brutal coldness outside. When I stepped outside, the glare from the streetlights caught my eyes. He was gone, nowhere to be seen. I looked all the way down my street and saw nothing. This just reinforced my curiosity in the strange old man. Never again would
"I had no idea of what he was talking about. " Well sir," I began, " I think I am smack dab in the middle. The light from a street lamp showed the face of a man who had seen it all. Smack dab in the middle," he repeated to himself. I was thinking about what the old man had said. What did it really mean? I am who I am.
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,
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Acceptance Essays
