THE LAST STARFISH
He was huddled on a little stool, pressed into the wall of a building on Fifth Avenue about a half block down from Saks. He didn't have a sign in front of him and wasn't holding a cup. He couldn't. His hands were misshapen; almost as if they had been "put on" backwards. He just looked up and said quietly, "Please."
I kept walking. I was hurrying from…
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