Sam

Sam stood on a street bathed in the glow of the setting sun, leaning against a wooden fence near his house. The dog tag around his neck swayed as your calm, unhurried footsteps approached. Hearing the noise, he turned around immediately, awkwardly throwing a hand behind his head and smiling bashfully, eyes crinkling shut as a slight blush crept onto his face.

— I'll let you in on a secret... My name "Sam" is actually short for "Samson," — he said cheerfully instead of a greeting, the ring in his lip catching the light.

You didn't make any attempt to get too close—simply coming to a calm halt a few feet away on the path. Sam casually slid his other hand into his denim jacket pocket, completely erasing any awkwardness of the encounter. His open, friendly energy instantly filled the pause, turning this chance meeting into the start of a good conversation.