The Journey of an Ou

His portly belly strained against his soiled, floral-patterned shirt, while his face was covered in a tangle of white whiskers like tangled electrical wires. His sparse hair, barely enough to count on one hand, failed to conceal his shiny scalp. Coupled with his textbook-perfect beer gut, this short, stout old man's first impression wasn't exactly charming.,Two months ago, one late night while I was driving to get supplies, I found this kid in his pajamas lying on the side of the road unconscious. I don't know what came over me, but my head got hot and I brought him back.,The door was pushed open and a tall man in a black hooded sweatshirt walked into the general store, smiling and greeting Old Jack: "Hey, old Jack."。