Maybe he was an angel.
Someone sent to warn me.
It feels like it.
I had been heading up Yonge Street. He'd was heading south. His wheelchair was a complex as his disability, with tubes and hoses attached at intervals between him and the steering mechanism. The street was just shy of crowded. I was making my way carefully as was he. I nodded seeing him. He nodded seeing me. He stopped short a couple of times, staying clear of hitting people as they stepped in front of him, not seeing him. I stopped short a couple of times too, once to avoid someone coming to a complete stop in order to send a text message, once to avoid being crashed into by someone hurrying my way. As he passed me, a thin voice, full of air, said, "You got to be good in if you dare to go out."
And then he was gone.
I've never seen him before.
I was not quite sure what he meant.
I didn't, then, understand.
I do now.
My world imploded a bit and it isn't good in ... and being out ... takes daring.
Now I'm thankful that the message was sent. It gave me a way to understand how I'm feeling - being out shopping, being out with friends, being out here.
"You've got to be good in if you dare to go out."