Look at this poor fucker in the Borders earlier today...
Sat on the bench in filthy clothes he had a bottle of vodka and fruit juice at his feet while slumped into a book. It didn't look like he was reading much.
Did he have a home to go to or was a he facing another night on the street?
Maybe he was once a brave soldier who went to fight in Iraq and came back with the horrors of war etched on his conscience. Now just a wreck, wasted. A few weeks after his return the screams in his head became too loud and he beat up his pregnant girlfriend, she lost their young baby. Families don't want him as theirs.
Maybe he was once a model with good hair and abdominal definition who developed a drug habit so he turned to making himself available for a fee. Perhaps towards the end he would let old guys fuck him for crack. He is not gay but the preying homosexuals fucked the life out of him. He's slumped there with his blackened fingernails and yellow teeth, now too ugly for anyone to want to fuck him.
Perhaps he was a juvenile thug who grew up on an estate with parents who were abusive and alcoholics. With no-one to call family he's now sat in the bookstore, crying into the books he wish he could understand.
But he's too drunk and exhausted so his eyes close and he slumps into the book he can't comprehend. He stinks and people move away from him. He is rejected.
Except for a brief moment. As someone walks past they spot him and photograph him with their mobile phone. They get home and post the picture on their blog. And hundreds of people around the world get a glimpse of some mother's son, drunk and alone, slumped in a bookstore with a bottle of vodka at his feet.