It was late October in 1986, and it was already cold in Milwaukee. The man discretely watched from his seat at the bar as Mr. Donaldson walked into the neighborhood saloon. Our observer wasn’t hiding, but he didn’t want to be seen either. He was an expert at toeing the line between existing and not. He had a lifetime of practice.
I really enjoyed this.
Though eating olives, day drinking Spanish wine, and not working too hard seems like the kind of life I am jealous of right at the moment.
Great stuff. Well played!
“rolls”
JLM
www.themusingsofthebigredcar.com