While most in their cars, at the intersection, are turning heads in opposite direction to deflect the obvious; I roll down my window, hoping the red light does not change too soon to capture images.
On a Saturday, in what could be his Sunday best attire, this young man yells to the masses of a small town, sometimes praying for their souls.
He does a jig every now and then as people in their vehicles honk either from annoyance or support.
The fashion of this particular day seems to be of comfort and modesty... For the job is to convey the word of the good book.