Readers Anonymous met on Tuesday evenings at 8:30pm in the Unitarian Church down the street from his third floor walkup. He took the trolley there every other Tuesday. He walked when he didn’t trolley. He still enjoyed a cigarette now and again, so there was always a pack in his breast pocket. He thought it made him look cool, like James Franco or Ryan Gosling. Or at least the Hollywood characterization of them. His contemporaries. footnote 1 On a particular Tuesday in December he decided it was time to speak, to give his first monologue to the helpless. He wore his scarf in a way that stated in no uncertain terms that he noticed minutiae and preferred life as such. The value of this character trait is still being discussed by a jury somewhere in Utah.
footnote 1 I could get technical and say that our narrator is incorrectly using the word ‘contemporary.’ But I won’t.
