The Big Read: Once more into the wind

I was walking the other day when I saw, up ahead, an old, thin man. He had the kind of thinness that makes you worry for him. He had thin legs and thin shanks and thin shoulders. Underneath his clothes I imagine he looks like a length of driftwood that has taken its beating in the ocean for 50 years and then washed up on a distant beach and been worn for another decade or so by wind and salt and sand and then finished off by the sun.