Book3:WereMyDreamIs

treets.David’sdeeplywrinkledfacewaslightedupwithseldomseensmilesashelookedfarettebutts.Hisfloomyandwobegonetenanishedandhewaswreathedinsmilesgreetingpeoplewhopassedbywithacheery“Hi!”“Go,sir!”exudingtheairofbonneamieofahappyhomelessman.Itwasstillearlyinthem.Davidstoppedatayparkinglotothebackdoorofanofficebuildiheretefullofsandprovidedespeciallyforofficeworkerswhohadaosmokeduringtheworkday.Smokingrohibitedihebuilding,buthereotheemptyparkinglotsmokerscouldindulgewithoutcausingtoomuchairpollution.David’seyeslightedupwhehattherewerealotofcigarettebuttsihepte.Hekhatthejanitorshadteoupandthatnootherhomelesspersonshadreachedthereeither.“Ha!”heexcimedinsatisfa,“I’mtheearlybirdthatgetstheworm.”Hequied