The man on Eileen's porch resembled absolutely no one. He wasn't a neighbor or anyone she knew, and he didn't seem to be a lost traveler, petition broker, salesman, or charity peddler. She had no where to file him. If she had to categorize him she would have to say that he is the type of person she never recognize or remember after meeting him. Unattractive, but otherwise exceedingly normal looking. Brown tan brown navy blue tan from his shoes to his hat.
The man says "Hello Eileen."
Eileen cannot think of how or why the man would know her name, so in her neat and ordered mind, he has not actually said her name at all. She isn't in the doorway, he isn't looking at her. None of this is happening.
"Eileen, I came to say I'm sorry."
He looked at her
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