We take his presence for granted until the usual newspaper rounds fail to appear at the doorstep. My mom and I keep pacing up and down the balcony looking for any signs of his cycle accompanied by the familiar trrrrrring, and the stacks of newspapers neatly arranged by count on his cycle carrier. We jump for joy just at the sight of the Newspaper Boy.
Neither family nor a friend, this inconsequential human being yet has the greatest influence on our lives. Life always hands out a magical realisation of the world we live in and the constant stream of people it brings into contact.
I salute thee, Newspaper Boy!