“The tavern was nearly empty. Outside an engine might backfire or someone might call out but inside all was quiet. The scattered patrons were weathered. They had known lives of labor.
‘People more easily forget those they’ve loved than those they’ve hated.’
The voice came from an old man slouched at the bar. No one looked up from their beers or responded. They weren’t listening. He was just an old man in a bar.”
From Bob’s novel about an old man in a bar, an homage to his favorite writer Ernest Hemingway.
I take photos. I write. My volunteer job is taking photos of rescued dogs and cats transported by the rescue group whose records I manage. Since working and volunteering don’t leave me a lot of time to write, I’m spending 2017 borrowing from what these dogs and cats are writing. They said it’s okay.