He shuffled by slowly pushing his heavily laden bicycle at a snails pace. I held my breath for what seemed the entire duration it took for him to pass. I wished to help but knew I ran the risk of offence. I wracked my brain for the appropriate words to say, the simplest gesture—something.

I closed my eyes to distance myself from the chaos all around seeking the perfect introduction in stillness.  I opened my eyes readied to attempt the over thought out approach—but The Ricksaw Man was gone.