The bus rolled to a creaking stop at a dimly lit corner of Destiny City, letting out a slow hiss as the brakes locked. Inside there was a bustle as passengers climbed over one another to get out, jostling in the walkway until they began to file down the steps one by one. Old women clinging to bundles of groceries waddled off down the sidewalk, college students hoisted heavy backpacks over their shoulders as they disappeared into various apartments, and then at the very end was a single straggler that looked out of place standing alone on the corner of an otherwise abandoned street.

Everything about the man said ‘bum’, from his shaggy dreads down to his need-to-be-washed, frayed blue jeans. He had an old khaki, army-style pack on one shoulder with a dozen different colorful patches sewn sloppily on, representing all of the places he’d visited – most of which were unrecognizable. He shifted the pack once and looked up at the sky, then let his dark eyes drag slowly over the surrounding buildings. As strange as he looked standing there alone with the flickering lamp post painting a halo on the crown of his ruddy hair, the look in his eyes was not the fear of a new place but instead the first glow of nostalgia.

One dark hand grasped the strap of his bag tightly, holding it close to his body, but in the other there was an old, faded picture. He dropped his eyes as he brought it up, staring at the figures that were already partially ruined by time and folds that created a cobweb of wrinkles. Four figures stared pleasantly out at him from a studio, their dark skin a stark contrast to the pale backdrop. It was obviously a family: two proud parents and two slightly annoyed sons, appeasing the adults by sitting still longer than they had their entire lives. They were slightly distorted from all the wear the photo had endured in the last two years but his mind could put the missing pieces back in place, he’d stared at it so often that it was burned into his memory.

His gaze settled for a moment on the parents and a familiar feeling of loss swept over him, but that was not the reason he was in Destiny City. His eyes flickered then to the younger of the two sons, a boy that was little more than a preteen with a fresh face and hope in his eyes. Growing dreads barely swept the tops of his shoulders, a style shared by the older boy standing just beyond the parents’ shoulders.

Suddenly he dropped his hand and glanced away, fighting down the fear and rage that swelled in him all at once. He stooped to set his bag on the ground so he could tuck the photo away carefully in a side pocket, then he stood and shouldered it once more. As he turned to look back out at the city that stretched before him, at the streets he had not walked in years, there was a renewed purpose blazing to life in his eyes.

“I’m coming,” a gruff voice said to no one, dying in the air of the silent city street, “I’m late, but I’m coming.”