The commuters side-stepped his outstretched legs, the purple socks in ratty slippers, the grease-stained pants from Goodwill. He stopped apologizing for his limbs that would not bend. Each day, he sat at the station, counting scowls. Each day, alone, she said, “Hello.”
Tenderfoot

Aw, so achingly sweet and sad. And a perfect title as it’s so tenderly written. The little details really bring his character to life and build sympathy. The purple socks especially stayed with me.
Wow. You painted such a great picture with perfect words and emotions. I pitied him instantly.
After series of scowls , a caring hello must have warmed his heart. I could see the picture in front of my eyes.
Vivid with details. All show and no tell. The best I’ve read on the grid so far.
“Counting scowls” adds so much to the man’s personality.
That was really neat.. You pull the reader in and then I’m left wanting more.. A really cool reading experience