The man with no legs

I'm sitting in Starbucks, comfortable in a stiff oversized burnt orange chair across from my roommate with her venti vanilla chai latte. 

To my right is the door. If you step out the door. Walk up the slight, grassy hill. Take a left onto the sidewalk of Hwy. 55. You'll see a man standing at an intersection.

He has two metal sticks for legs and carries a flag that has a picture of a gun and a helmet hanging over it (above is my sad attempt at recreating it for you). On days when it's cold he wears a coat fit for a general in the army. on warmer days he wears his fatigues with the pant legs tied just below where his knees would be. He has the face of the drill sergeant you see in your nightmares. In his hands he carries a bucket. 

what will you do?

Most days i'm too afraid to roll down my window even if I do have spare change.

Well, really, most days i want to offer him a cup of coffee in exchange for an interview. 

I wonder where this man came from. what he's done. what he plans to do.

I wonder if he knows how intimidating he looks. I think he must know if he is wearing the clothes he wears and carrying the flag he waves.

But I wonder. I wonder about the woman and child in the picture he has propped up on the chair that sits on the median where he stands.

Maybe it's a ploy for sympathy. maybe not.

who are they? with their picture that looks just like any family photo taken in the '80s only it is printed on a crumpled up sheet of computer paper encased in a plastic protective sheet.

I wonder about this man. What is his story? how did he end up with two steel rods for legs, standing everyday at the intersection of Hwy 54 and 55. Hopefully I'll get to buy him a cup of coffee soon and let you all know what I find out.