As Richie reaches the car, his cigarette has burned nearly all the way down. He sits behind the wheel, alone with his thoughts, remembering, and flicks the dead stub through the window. ~ From his first meeting Richie admired Bill, sensing the older man’s confidence, his calm, his quiet strength. Bill would lean back in the folding chair, hands behind his head and legs stretched before him, and effortlessly tell the story of his life. Not like Richie—hunched over, elbows on knees, staring at the floor—and the others, who stammered out their stories when they could tell them at all.
One Last Smoke
One Last Smoke
One Last Smoke
As Richie reaches the car, his cigarette has burned nearly all the way down. He sits behind the wheel, alone with his thoughts, remembering, and flicks the dead stub through the window. ~ From his first meeting Richie admired Bill, sensing the older man’s confidence, his calm, his quiet strength. Bill would lean back in the folding chair, hands behind his head and legs stretched before him, and effortlessly tell the story of his life. Not like Richie—hunched over, elbows on knees, staring at the floor—and the others, who stammered out their stories when they could tell them at all.