He sits comfortably,concrete ground,daily explodes. A rather old cushion(a gift from his grandmother before she died), envelops the coldest of floors. Accompanying him is Jack Russell,the bestest friend he's ever had. "Please Sir,Madam. Me,a poor man,needs more than a pound,to help me and my dog out",is his rehearsed call. No matter the weather,he walks miles and miles 2 sit in his spot,that every other knows. Everyone has their own spot. It's very territorial. "Please spare me a pound,he gently announces,2 the passers-by,daily walking past him,with their heads in the sky. He's been sitting in his designated spot for five hours now. Since half past nine in the morning. It's now half past 2 in the afternoon. Thankfully the police aren't about. 2day is a sunny one,the best weather for people giving what little or large amount of money,they can give this dog and this man. Over the months,he's acquired regular customers,who give him whatever they have. Food,money,it all counts. Ten 2 twenty pounds,at a time,sometimes. Without these people,they wouldn't survive. Generally,people are very nice,but on occasions,he's the victim of the darker side of humankind. He's been spat on,afew times, Called Skum,and once, Some guy tried 2 set him alight! What A Life. (c) 8/08/2021. Wired6.