Dead man walking
He ambles along, his bad leg marking tracts in the dust.
The phrase comes to mind, only he’s in a prison of his own making.
‘Can we turn on the light?’ I follow, wondering if he had even bothered to pay the electricity bill.
A switch clicks, and I blink back my surprise.
‘El Diego’ – The name escapes my lips like a prayer.
His eyes light up.
The next half hour is a blur.
‘I’ll be here around 10 with my team. They will be so thrilled to see your collection.’
He bids me adieu with joy in his eyes and a spring in his step. El Diego has brought him back to life.
In response to the Sunday Photo Fiction – July 15,2018 challenge, based on a photo by Susan Spaulding