A nodeshell challenge by gfg

Walking down the street, you may spot this kid. And you think to yourself you already know him. So you start to make the standard assumptions.

You see his hair, curly and out of control, the beginnings of dreds forming, it looks like it hasn’t been washed in months. Overalls are falling apart, one strap broken hanging down his back, the front covered with random drawings made with a green crayola marker, cut off at the calf.

This insides of his arms are covered with blistering red sores, god knows what that could be from. Sunglasses barely hanging off the tip of his nose, far from raybans, but some pair he bought off a street vendor for $5.99. Smoking a cigarette, not because it’s cool, but because he’s hooked, he wields it like an expert.

The shoes, Chuck Taylor All-Stars, red, no laces, the heels flapping with each step, a toe or two poking through the tip. And of course, the attitude, he walks slow, tired, a small grin across his face, obviously stoned, and you confuse this with arrogance. But to be cliché, it’s only the tip of the iceberg.

What you don’t know, is that this faceless idiot, the long-haired, peace lovin’ hippie boy is Harvard educated. He pulled a 4.0 every quarter, he graduated early with two degrees in technical fields. And it doesn’t mean shit to him.

He did what was expected, and he was miserable. He worked some no-name job for absurd amounts of money for a short while, but when he realized there was more to life than the 9-5, so he quit. Instead, he does what he wants. He works a greasy grill in a small café in JP. The sores on his arms are burns because he busts his ass while he serves up those orders. He shows up to work on time every day, never calls in sick, covers other people’s shifts when they don’t show.

His shoes are falling apart because when the bum outside asks for spare change, he hands over every penny he made that day instead of buying new shoes. His hair askew because he worked three shifts under a hairnet. The slow walk is because he is tired, but he’s happy. The green drawings on his overalls because, hey, green is a good color, man. The sunglasses because it’s sunny, and enjoying a cigarette as he walks home.

He gets more out of life that most of us ever will, and when you spot him, you probably look the other way.

Kyle, you rock

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