Met a old man in the park. He hid something under his black suit. Upon seeing me, he leapt in shock as if to run. He immediately cried that he had not done anything. Suspicious.
We sat down for a talk. A strange quiet meeting. The old man admitted to being a retired English Professor who had been thrown out upon the world forty years ago when the last liberal arts college shut for lack of students and patronage. Faber was his name. He read out a rhymeless poem and he touched his left coat pocket. I expected him to pull out something related to books or poems, but he did not. He said:
"I don't talk things sir, I talk the meaning of things. I sit here and I know I'm alive."
After an hour, he did not acknowledge the fact that I was a firemen and wrote his address on a slip of paper. When I get angry, I might report him... But I did not.
arising
7:49 PM
Profile
Guy Montag
male
sweet 30
attached
loyal fireman for 10 years
love the world like the way it is
kerosene is my favourite perfume
172 cm tall 67 kg
WISHLIST
+ Burn more books
+ promoted to captain by 5 years
+ get a new parlor wall = mildred will stop bugging me
+ meet that special girl more often
+ remove all anti government
