He was sitting in one of his favorite bars somewhere over Iowa or some other state he never planned to visit. This bar was terrific because they more than insisted on the guests staying seated. He also liked that the soda water was always fizzy.
It was a mid-afternoon cross country flight. The only chatter he heard while . . .
He had to fight the wind as he pushed through the revolving doors that separated the outside from the inside. The quick pace he usually walked at was carried out in double time. When he made it to the stairs that led down to the subway his cheekbones already ached from the cold.
The train was packed--standing room only for . . .
Walking through the revolving door he dragged his feet to remove the snow. It was coming down a bit too hard to finish his pipe so his walk had been cut short. He waved at the doorman and took the elevator in the opposite direction of the falling snow.
He was a touch out of sorts. The week had drifted by without much . . .
A long time ago he made a personal rule not to have a toddy unless there was an inch of snow on the ground. He, of course, made exceptions for a sore throat regardless of the forecast. A few more minutes of accumulation and he would be in the clear.
He placed a kettle on the stove and turned the fire on. While that got all . . .
The car pulled up to the gate. He paid the driver and decided to walk from there. It wasn't a long walk to the cabin but it had been years since he had done it on foot. Orange and red leaves had begun to take over the green ones in a battle that they would all lose in a month.
His leather boots were broken in but only . . .
He put the last dinner plate in the dishwasher and looked around. It was too early for bed. He wasn't one for having a dessert unless he could drink it. Sticking his hand out the window to check the temperature he decided to go out for a nightcap. He pulled his worn green tweed jacket on and walked out the door.
A taxi . . .
Extra innings meant that he was on edge. She had been asleep since the stretch. He usually loved West Coast away games but September baseball carries a different weight when you are only a few games ahead. The announcers yammered on about great plays from the start of the season and how players had either blossomed or shriveled . . .