There’s a man who stands bewildered in his garage. He can be heard to hum Heart of Glass, while he stands bemused, hands in pockets.  His grown kids rake the final leaves, hauling them out by tarpaulin load to the street.  Yesterday was his last shift at a patchy part time job.  So many youngsters there.  Such exuberant repartee.  Hard for him to follow at times, but always dispelling the lonely dark.  Dismissed by some as the sad old guy, still he has made one or two friends.  A girl who has hardly spoken to him these months shows surprise that he is leaving, and tells him awkwardly that it was nice to have met him.  Another who seemed standoffish at first had begun to chat with him these last days.  Although just a line worker with the rest, her manner of speaking and of taking charge  when others were losing their heads had made an impression upon him.  She saw his covert glances and wistful smiles, and knew him for a friend.  To think that someone with such confidence and ebullience would take the time to talk with him has touched his heart, and, this night, he has written a little verse about her.  It’s called To make you smile. She does not know it’s his last night there.  With trembling hand, he passes the note to one of the guys, asks that it be given to his Jenna girl, and leaves without saying goodbye.
She will know.

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