A Sage in the City
Never-ending throngs of strangers shifted down the cement sidewalks. The heavily packed street was filled with yellow taxis, shouts, and honks, while the traffic lights shined red. Sky scrapers towered around me with illuminated advertisements of Kodak, McDonalds, and Virgin Mobile. Neon strips streaked across buildings, while light from the city leaked into the sky overpowering the stars of the night. At the corner of the street sat a busker, showered in the glow of a street lamp. Behind him, a brick wall was the canvas of a graffiti artist. He slouched over his old guitar that had been strummed so many times that a new hole was developing where a pick guard should have been. A stick of incense protruded from the headstock and the aroma twisted through the air like a stream between hills. His ragged clothes and long-greasy hair were off putting to most. Many would walk by without a second thought, but the man...