First message
the bus drops me off on a snowy corner of shops, all closed for the holiday.
the exception was a bar called “The Tamed Eagle”, the name in neon lights buzzing atop the shabby building tinted windows
most of the men in my troop went home to their families, friends, loved ones, but not me. I have no one, no home to return to, so I’ll probably retire to a nearby motel. I just need a drink first
I adjust the backpack strap on my shoulder and trudge thru the snowy sludge toward the bar