Taxi after dark

A man sits waiting at the bus stop. His shirt is torn and a shoelace is untied. He has that lost look people get when they have lost everything held dear. Buses come and go, people walk past and never glance more than twice. Twilight descends around him and yet still he sits and waits. For what? Is there someone coming? I notice this from the cafe across the street. It's been hours and I am more interested in him with every hour that passes. Why does he just sit there like that? He must be hungry or thirsty. It's fascinating to watch. How the human body can adapt itself like that. Where did this man come from? Does he have somewhere to go? Maybe he's homeless, maybe he's crazy. Do I dare see if he's ok? My shift has finished. I make a coffee to go and make myself go across the street. "Excuse me sir, would you like a coffee? I've been watching you all day. Are you ok?" Thank you. I'm thirsty. He looks confused and lost so I ask him, "Do you have somewhere to go?" Yes, I live in that building over there. "Are you sure you're ok sir?" I finished work and was waiting for my wife to pick me up after work, but she was running late. "Did you call her? Maybe traffic is bad." There's no need. She died yesterday. And I forgot. The coffee went cold while we waited together. When it got too dark to see I called him a taxi. I never saw him again.