Jules is now in his sixties, and is one of the many homeless people who live on the streets; he buys a newspaper most days. Today, with his fellow tramps, he reads about yesterday's student demonstrations.
Like many of the tramps who live under the bridges, Jules was not always so poor. A long time ago he was in the Navy, and like many who have been to sea for a long time, he has stayed slim and fit. Despite the strict organization on board ship, he loved his life, and had the opportunity to see many countries. He visited Poland and Russia; in South Africa he realized what he valued in each country was the people he met. He was always astonished and delighted by the ways in which the people he met differed from one country to another. Some day, he hopes, everyone will see the world as he does.
After many happy years in the Navy, he had to retire. The good things in life always come to an end. His mother and father had long since died and he'd lost touch with his other relatives. He became an industrial designer. He was happy, although it wasn't the same as the sea. He never wanted to get married and have children.
And then there was the period of darkness. He smiles sadly. He shrugs his shoulders and looks at his hands. There are tears in the corners of his eyes. This is something that he cannot bring himself to talk about. ''It all went wrong, '' he whispers.
He was silent for a while, then recovered. He began to talk more loudly. ''Look at me now—it makes me angry. And what about the President? He's been in power for years, and look what he's done for us. Nothing! I am still out on the streets and live the life of a dog.''
