I look up and see him: Sitting on a roof six stories high with his legs dangling over the edge.
‘Single to the station,’ I tell the driver. A young girl helps me put my case in the luggage rack.
Now, he is standing with his arms outstretched as if he were saluting the sun.
I consider the bruises, a broken nose, and an arm in plaster.
The bus pulls away, but I don’t look back.