with either stool around him empty.
A mug of beer sat in front of him
half-empty.
If you didn't know any better
you may have thought him
to be Mark Twain
in jeans and a work shirt.
Hunching over his drink
while the music played
the world seemed to
fade in and out of
clarity. Nothing new here,
just old habits
killing one day
at a time.
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