Sometimes truths are what we run from, and sometimes they are what we seek.
R.D. Ronald
Scott glanced at his watch but didn't register what it said. The notion of time had become as absurd as the quietly glowing trees.
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Solitude led to retrospective thinking, and if the past is what you are trying to get away from, then constant distractions in the present are needed.
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Deciding to wait, Scott sat down with a pint away from the bar at a corner table and lit a cigarette. The clientele in there on Sunday afternoon were the same as most other afternoons. From middle-aged to old men, drinking and cursing at the world like it was the last bus which had just left the stop without them.
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