On my way to work one morning I saw a hand-made cardboard sign stuck to a pole in an unfriendly, industrial part of town.

Who would put it there? What does it say?

I couldn’t read it because the sign was folded half-closed by the wind.

What does it say?

Normally I’m not that inquisitive. I mean, it’s a hand-made cardboard sign stuck to a pole, for crying out loud. Probably just another out-of-work homeless person looking for a hand-out.

I pulled off to the side of the road and got out.

Why do I care?

What could this anonymous person say that was of interest to me? Probably nothing. Most likely, nothing.

I imagine a homeless dude, dirty-looking, thin, sitting by the side of the road working on his sign. He’s only got one marker. One good piece of cardboard. So he better make it good.

Once his masterpiece is complete, he finds a way to afix it to the pole.

And then he waits for things to change, for his sign to make a difference.

But nothing changes. Just more and more cars passing by full of drivers like you and me who barely even notice.

Eventually he walks away, but his sign remains for all to see. Bastards!

The truth will out.

Until the wind folds it over. And the elements close in. And days later the sign is gone.

It tells a story

The sign tells the story of an unhappy relationship.

Where is that place? Are they really cheats and thiefs [sic]? What actually happened to make this guy want to put up a sign like that?

Or maybe the wrong they done him is wholly imagined. Maybe he’s the bad guy, wrongfully impugning the reputation of good people.

The sign is gone now.

Was it the wind? Or did somone pull it down?

We’ll never know.