Tall boy

Yesterday morning, walking to the train station, like almost every day, I passed the tall boy walking in the opposite direction. A civil servant, I guess, on his way to his desk in one of those tall ministry buildings in my neighborhood. My eyes shortly met his, but I hesitated a moment too long. A few steps further, I felt regret coming up that I hadn't stopped and talked to him, like: "Hey, can I say goodbye to you? This is my last day at work, so I think you won't see me anymore in the mornings. For several years you've been a stable element in my days, that's over now. Every day I wondered what your name was, whereto you were headed, where you worked, what your passion was and why you never carried a bag." That could have been funny. After work, on the way back, I closely watched out for him; maybe there would be a second chance. But no. He's later usually.