Coffee and old men…

I am sitting in my usual spot in McDonald’s having a coffee and watching people. The atmosphere is quiet, the only exception is a table which old men huddle around and tell tall tales about people they have known, jobs they have held and the pretty girls they almost dated.

Each story is fueled by coffee and remembrance of the good ole days.

It is amazing how time turns bad days into pleasant memories. Perhaps, there is hope for me. Maybe my memories from Iraq will be whitewashed by time, the horror turned into a story of friends whom my life would not be complete without.

Or maybe its the coffee.

As I sip my hot beverage, I watch as each man sits silently while the other man regals the table with their story, afterwards they all laugh and start the next conversation with, ” I’m so old, I remember…”

I am thankful for this table of old men and their stories. As the clouds grow darker with rain looming on the horizon, the laughter coming from the table lightens the darkness in my heart.

It’s just another early Sunday morning in the South.

20 October 2019

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