From One Word.
It bathed him. He brought his hands to his face and pretended to rub some of it on himself as if it were water, or perhaps lotions. It was almost unnerving. So long, it felt, since he shut himself away from the world. And now, he was outside. The sky was a bright and clear blue. It was almost as if the earth wanted to mark this rare occasion, his emerging from his dwelling, with near perfect weather. So appreciative was he, that he allowed himself to be encompassed wholly in the moment. He just stood there, on his stoop; eyes closed, chin tilted upwards, palms facing forward. One would think he was "receiving" something, a message, a gift perhaps, through the sunlight. Nothing else near him mattered. Not the junkie stumbling by who stopped for a brief moment to ask him for change, but realized the man on the stoop was in his pajamas and slippers, and continued shuffling on. Nor the young teen speeding down the street, his Yankees cap flying off of his head, yet, he did not slow down because a lady was chasing him, screaming for him to give her back the purse he was clutching to. Nor the sounds of yelling coming from the neighboring building. Nor the police sirens that seemed to be getting closer and closer; possibly to answer the call another neighbor made, complaining about the yelling. No. He noticed nothing. In fact, to him, he wasn't even in the city, or even in New York. At this very moment, he was in the country; a field perhaps. He was surrounded by hundreds of Sunflowers, all leaning towards the source of this wonderful light that bathe him. Was he still a human being? No, for now, I suppose he was a sunflower too.
So i'm rusty...lol