<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(46, 139, 87)">The day was almost done. The sun was low in the sky, and the rush hour had long passed. In the city, there was a café called Noir, and outside of Noir, seated on a collapsed cardboard box, was a homeless man. He wore dingy dark blue sweatpants and a ragged grey sweatshirt. He wore boots that were so worn-out that there were holes all the way through the soles where his bare foot could be seen. The man kept the hood of his shirt up, and his face turned down and away from people as they passed. Having a beggar outside was none too welcome to the owner and staff of Noir, but he had not yet been told to leave. In front of him was a white plastic ice cream bucket with a little bit of water in the bottom. The black sharpie on the face of it read "WISHING WELL". There was almost a dollar and a half in coins in it now.</span>