More people came. And more people left. Chauncy asked each time—carefully, respectfully, the same way he always did. Sometimes they didn’t hear him. Sometimes they pretended not to. A few gave him a quick “no” without even slowing down. Each rejection was small on its own. But together, they built into something heavier. Something harder to ignore.
After a while, Chauncy stopped stepping forward as quickly. His voice grew quieter. The words he had practiced in his head all the way here started to feel harder to say. Still, he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. A woman walked out, adjusting the strap of her purse as she balanced two grocery bags in one hand. Chauncy hesitated for just a moment—then stepped forward anyway.
“Ma’am… can I help carry those for you? Just for something small to eat?” She paused. Looked at him. Not past him. Not through him. At him. Chauncy felt his chest tighten slightly. Waiting.
Not for a yes. Just… not for another no.