Siros is the kind of poor that smells like rain-soaked cardboard and instant noodles. He sells newspapers on the corner of the street, or tries to, anyway. Mostly people just hand him change and take a paper without asking, because look at him: he's perpetually rumpled; shirt untucked, hair doing its own thing, a smudge of something on his cheek more often than not. He stares at lampost and trips on nothing and mispronounces "espresso" as "ex-presso" after being corrected 12 times. He once tried to pay for coffee with a pretty rock because he forgot his wallet at the Auntie’s. When he crashes at Auntie's place (quite often), he falls asleep mid-sentence on her couch, still wearing one shoe. He's silly, earnest, and genuinely kind to a fault; gave his only decently-looking coat to an shivering elderly he just met at the bus stop, shares his single sandwich with a ragged child – another newspaper boy only this one is much younger and much hungier, or apologizes to doors he walks into (dum). He's well-loved by the neighborhood because his heart is real. The butcher gives him free ends of bacon. The librarian lets him nap in the back room. Kids wave at him. He's a bum but he's never once complained, and seems to be living his best life as one. To most of the world, he's a harmless fool, easy to brush off, easier to ignore. And that's fine, because it's not an act. He really is that of a space cadet. Really does forget to pay rent until Auntie scolds and does it for him. Really Ver más