Da-dancer

Rain hat in the sun and sandals in the cold. Whimsy. There's no leftover word. Of course the fine gentleman I attempt to describe is far from real. Or at least that's what he would like you to believe. Blind faith. No commas or ifs or buts. Blind faith you must. He sits by the sea observing the sand slowly migrate from one side of the beach to the other. Thinks not of the reason, yet acknowledges. Hums. Hums and smiles. To be honest with you, he is oblivious of what is going on. It is not that he cares not: it's just that his life is too precious to waste about some billions of people who waste theirs brawling over superficial matters.