My first day homeless I was sitting on the harbourfront in a chair ready to go to sleep when a man walking by stared at me. What was he staring at?

My complexion?
What he staring at the flaws of my face?

My backpack?
Was he staring at my backpack full of my belongings?

Why was he staring at me.

I scared him off. I got up, reached into my pant leg where my knife was and jolted at him.
He ran off. And so did I, in the opposite direction.

I figured the police might be coming.

One night.

I was jolting at someone.

What was he staring at?

Me?