Magmamite – or now rather Sunil – kicks off his boots while unzipping and dumping the contents of his bag. He yanks a pair of ragged jeans over his silver pants, then throws on a dingy t-shirt and a ripped flannel long sleeve. He pops on a pair of old sneakers, then shoves his boots into his bag.

Finding a nice patch of green grass, he rubs the backpack’s stain against the yard a few times. After giving it a sniff test, then another few rubs, and a final sniff, he shrugs and slings it over his shoulder.

As he walks towards to the street, he pauses near a basketball court where several kids about his age are playing. He watches until an errant ball rolls in his direction. He quickly drops his head, and resumes his walk.

As he waits to cross the busy street intersection, something shiny on the pavement catches his eye. He bends down to pick up a wayward quarter laying on the sidewalk. It brings a smile to his face.