I was walking the city when this guy bumped into me. It was the sort of thing that happens all the time. Strangers bump into each other. Apologies are exchanged. They move on.

This time, it was my fault. At least after I looked up at the man.


“No problem. Hey buddy, you know where’s the nearest library?”

The question took me by surprise. I spend a lot of time in libraries. Writing. Thinking. Enjoying the quiet. If you saw me, you’d say, “That figures.”

But this guy didn’t look like the library type.

He was in his late-twenties or so. He looked confident without being arrogant. He looked tough without being mean. Not handsome. Not ugly. But there was something about him that made you look twice. Different. Tall. Strong. A nose that had been broken a few times. A left ear that had seen better days. A few scars. But it was the eyes that got you. Blue. Maybe green. Definitely not brown.

“It’s a few blocks away. I’m heading there myself.”

“You mind if I join you? Looking for an atlas. Trying to decide where to head next. My name’s Jake. Jake Tiger.”

That walk turned into a journey. The few minutes became hours which became days and now years. He travels around a bit. And I don’t get to see Jake that often. But we still talk every once in a while. I take my notes. Ask some questions. Have a few laughs. But it’s the stories he tells. His adventures. His life. His lives. A world different from the rest. A world of his own. A world we only see in the movies.

“Jake, you should write it all down.”

“How about you do it for me?”

And that’s what I’m trying to do. One post at a time.