The cart was empty. Some days it felt like the thing would never be empty again. No one around to pay for the order? Then he had to haul it back, unload it, and try again until he ran out of space again. Ran out of space? Then he had to solicit. Soliciting establishments didn’t work? Well, then he either had to drink the costs or try the people he knew couldn’t say ‘no’, even if they were better off doing so.

Mostly, he ‘drank’ the costs.

He saw a tall child kicking a rock down the street, and gave her a polite nod and wide berth regarding himself and his cart. While his stature was more common in Whitby, it didn’t stop people of all walks of life taking one look at him and deciding: ‘threat’.