He sat at the end of the bar, where he sat every day.
Retired and divorced, his grown kids didn’t want anything
to do with him, which he couldn’t understand.
Hadn’t he given them everything, them and their mom?
He’d worked hard, long hours, coming home exhausted;
of course he missed all their school events, birthdays, anniversaries. Of
course, he just wanted to be left alone when he finally got home at night.
The man is supposed to be the Provider. Well, he’d
provided, and they’d all abandoned him.
Ingrates.
He stared owlishly into his beer glass, eternally
defiantly clueless.
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