As George, the tattered old man, vanished into the quieter corners of the city, the murmurs among the bystanders grew into distinct conversations. Two onlookers, a middle-aged woman with a concerned expression and a young man with a notebook under his arm, lingered near the fountain, their discussion reflecting the incident they just witnessed.
"I've seen him around before," the woman said, nodding toward the direction George had taken. "That's George, isn't it? Always sweeping the roads or chasing after something for someone. It's a hard life, living like that."
"Yes, that's George," the young man replied, scribbling something in his notebook. "He does whatever odd jobs he can find. Last week, he helped Mrs. Patterson find her lost cat. And just yesterday, he was cutting weeds along the roadside. Earns a few coins here and there, but it's never enough, is it?"
