The old man's general disposition over the course of his entire life is displayed via a prominent, permanent furrow, pressed deeply into the flesh on his forehead.
One could suppose that all he has ever done is frown, and that his only mood has been 'grumpy.'
But surely he must have smiled once. On his wedding day, perhaps, or after a good joke, or when winning $20 in the lottery?
Everybody must have a good day from time to time; at what sort of things could the world's grumpiest man smile at?
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Everywhere you look, there is a story. This blog was an experiment in storytelling, drawn from true life in the most mundane setting known to Western civilization: the city bus. I no longer post here, but am leaving it active for posterity's sake.
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