The man was old, and clearly homeless. He was standing outside Swork in a torn jacket. He was staring at the ground in front of him, at a pile of pennies someone had left behind.

Maybe he could tell I was watching him, but when he looked up and smiled, it was disarming. He was handsome, or had been once. He had a big white beard, and his skin was leathery and tan, but he had the kind of charming smile that old Hollywood matinee actors have and bright eyes. He looked like someone who smiled a lot, or should, like a smile was the only expression that truly made sense on his face.

"Someone left behind a pile of pennies," he said, "just left them on the street." I nodded, looked at the pennies.

"It's a sign of the times, you know. In my time, in the old days, people just didn't do that." I nodded again, wondering about his time, wondering where he was from, where he had been, how he ended up here. Did he have a family? Did he have kids? Who did he talk to on hard days?

He smiled again. "Well, you have a nice day now," he said, and he waved. Sort of.

"You too," I said. And I started walking towards my car. There was already a new moon in the sky.

"New Moon in Virgo" was the title of the email my friend had sent me. "Make sure you perform a fire ceremony tonight," it said. Perhaps I would light a candle. I would send a wish to the man from another time who was perplexed, and yet still smiling, at the signs of our time.