2 October 2017
Standing at the bus stop, reading The Dain Curse by Dashiell Hammett on my Kindle, a man approached me. I didn’t look up. He didn’t say anything. I lifted my head to see who it was, I recognized Little Jake. I gave him a hug and said, “Jake, I haven’t seen you for ages.”
He said, “I know you, but I forget your name.”
I said, “It’s Dennis. How are you. I’ve spoken to Bearded Bruce lately.”
“Yeah, he just threw me out. I’m walking around in a fog. I don’t know where I’m going.”
I said, “You’re looking good.”
“No, I’m not.”
I reached into my wallet looking for a five to hand him.”
“I don’t want your money. I don’t want anything.”
I said, “I was sorry to hear about Wolf passing. He was a great guy.”
“Yeah, it’s going to be my turn next. I’m not interested in money. I’m not interested in anything.” His blue eyes started to tear. He patted my shoulder then shuffled off down the sidewalk. I was at a loss for words. I didn’t know what to do. I just watched him drift away.
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