A timeless man sat on a well-worn stool, his trusty dog at his feet, and watched the world pass by. He’d been there a long time; longer than most. And he’d seen a great deal. Faces, attitudes, trends, and ideas. One culture gave way to another. The street – his home – sped up, along with the ever-growing crowds that sought solace in a happy hour. Ugly, empty buildings jutted toward an indifferent sky. But his place shines, there, on the sidewalk; brighter than any flame. A fast fading spirit kept alive with a kindness and dedication seldom seen in any time, anywhere. Something lasting, something real. “Everything’s changing,” thought the timeless man on the well-worn stool.
But he didn’t.
In memory of Bruce Walker and Flying Possum Leather: