Summary: Would you ever want to take this man's journey? I know I wouldn't.

The man always walks the same route, every day. He is always dressed the same way. Long trench coat that reaches his knees, smart black shoes and a large hat that hides his eyes. If you were to pass by him while he was walking you'd notice that he was wearing a black suit, as if he was going to work. Where ever he was going, he never made it.

No one knows his name… or maybe they all forgot.

His treck always starts at the Grand Hotel were he stands for a few moments, probably waiting for someone. He then shrugs and starts walking along with everyone else, careful not to touch anyone.

A few streets over he stops at a coffee shop. He goes in and sit's down, sometimes reading a paper that someone left, sometimes just people watching. No one sits or talks with him, ever.

After 15 minutes he gets up and leaves, never buying anything. He continues to walk for 20 minutes until he reaches an alley in the side of two buildings. As he tries to pass the alley a shot rings out and he falls.

The locals just watch as the visitors panic and the man bleeds on the side walk. There is always at least two cop cars close by. As the cops approach the visitors the locals just go back to what they had been doing.

After 12 agonizing minutes the body of the man disappears but the blood stays behind. The locals know that it will stay for an hour but the visitors, not wanting to believe, watch. The police stay, silent, remembering. Just as they told the visitors the blood disappears after an hour.

In another part of town the man appears. Laying on a slab at the local morgue, out of the way of the coroner. He stays there for six hours. For those six hours the coroners refuses to work.

When those six hours are done he appears at the funeral home. He lays on the table of the last room.

No one visits the funeral home anymore. Run down and falling apart, the only room that hadn't been affected is his. It looks the same as it had that day. The man stays there until sun down.

Until the sun comes back up you can find him sitting on his grave. The stone is barely legible. You can only make out one or two letters of his name, the rest is gone. There are no flowers left for him because he has no one.

As the sun comes up he disappears. In a few hours everything starts over. He walks, he dies, he lays and he sits. Alone.

As I place the flowers on his grave I think that who ever said "No one is ever alone" has never heard of this man's ghost.