I saw him most mornings in the entryway of the store where I buy my newspaper. I’d nod and he’d nod. We moved on to casual greetings and, in time, to brief conversations. He had a bed with bath privileges: In by 8:00 o’clock in the evening and out by 8:00 o’clock in the morning. I sometimes offered to buy him a meal or a bus pass. He never accepted. One day I came for my paper and he was gone. I kept watch but never saw him again. Had he told me his name? I cannot recall.