He was tall, and his salt and pepper hair was styled in that trendy bed-head fashion. He wore dark rimmed glasses, and the collar of his black coat was up-turned. His eyes were focused on the old, paperback copy of The Inferno he held in his hands.
At his stop, he leaned down to grab the handle of the black backpack between his legs. His walk as smooth as he glided off the metro train and onto the platform.