October 30, 2007
The library made him a quiet patron, looking studious even when he was daydreaming of her behind the pages of the accounting text. The empty chair in the classroom made him absent, again. The subway made him a commuter, hanging wearily from a strap for the length of the trip downtown. The bar made him a slacker, drinking cheap beer in the middle of the afternoon. The alley made him a voyeur, watching one person slide inside another. The hospital made him a patient, a tired, aching, beat-up patient, too old to be a student, a bachelor, a fun drunk.