He was a speck in the distance.

I watched him grow in size as he held his straight line on the road towards me.

If I had not stepped aside, he would have walked into me, and if I had not said anything, he would probably have walked past me.

He told me he worked over there, there, there and there: roughly the four points on the compass. He’s been around, I thought.

Now he’s retired and on his afternoon walk and lives over there.