The red faced businessman

There was a red faced businessman who walked past my window every morning on his way to work. His eyes would always be fixed to the pavement in front of him and his slick black hair would shine, even in the winter. I'd wonder, how does he get his face to be so red? Maybe he was born from a mother with a fiery temper. Or maybe his father was an Olympic champion underwater breath-holder. I never would get my answer.

He'd always wear the same drab grey coat with the same drab grey pants. They only emphasized the brightness of his face. I'd drink my coffee and stare out the window and hope that one day he would look up and see me. For some reason I believed if we made eye contact, I'd come to a revelation.