The pedestrian, Leonard Mead, has very little in common with the other people who live in his neighborhood. They are all married couples who are content to sit inside their homes at night watching television. He is an unemployed writer, a man who would rather live in the world of ideas than consume the predictable, formulaic entertainment on television. Mead is content to walk alone in the silent streets, taking in the early evening air and speaking to no one. Because there is no one like himself where he is living, he is "as good as alone." His crime, as it were, is his failure to conform. His profession is no longer recognized as valid, and his desire to be outdoors is seen by the authorities as aberrant. It doesn't matter if he is literally or figuratively alone, because in any case, there is no one like himself with whom to commune.
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