English: American novelist, short story writer, and screenwriter Harold MacGrath (1871-1932) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
A writer is never off duty. Even when a writer lives in the moment, once the moment passes the writer must sooner or later reflect on his or her day. The day might contain something that can be used in a short story.
Earlier today, I walked to Armand’s in Little Italy for a beer. This was before noon. Only two other customers sat at the bar as they watched television. My new friend, the painter of fine art, was not there. He’s around my age and he has always made a living as a painter of fine art. He’s not rich, but he makes a living. I admire anyone who makes a living at his or her art.
And he’s a good conversationalist.
But today he was not at Armand’s. So, I finished my beer and enjoyed my walk in this beautiful summer-like weather Pittsburgh is having, back to my apartment.
After eating a sardine sandwich with onions and mustard on pumpernickel bread and washing it all down with some sweet tea, I read a little of one of my books that I checked out from the public library a few days ago.
Then it was time for another walk to visit my younger brother who lives in an assistant-living facility. He’s younger than I am but he uses a cane and looks and acts much older. He never goes anywhere. He has plenty of money. He usually slips me a few bucks when I visit him. But he has lost his interest in life.
Over the years, I’ve written two flash fiction stories about him.
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Filed under: This Writing Life | Tagged: art, brother, family, fine art, flash fiction writer, friends, good conversationalist, life, Pittsburgh, television | Leave a Comment »
