He said his name was Simon. His eyes were deep green. His straw-blond hair was wild, covering his youthful but troubled face.
He was tall and smiled at me after catching the attention of one passerby. And I gave him 20 Swiss francs in Bern station as I went for the train to Geneva.
He wore a long, rough coat on a hot day and no shoes on his unclean feet. When I gave him the money he laughed and from his pocket took an unused bar of soap and a single cuff link.