Horace lived on the top floor of a dilapidated building Street Unit. He was a former sailor, a former smuggler, an ex-husband, a former railroad worker and who knows what else. We estimate because we realized that to understand life and the things in life one must separate. 7 was old loves - Horace - and 5 teeth and 11 promises betrayed and missed three appointments with death ... and an unknown number of grievances, but it was old, too old to remember. He lived on the top floor with his years and his past to tell. Yet never left home, never had that desire to see something that was not his TV. The television kept him company late into the night. And the windows of her room recalls that glow in the alleys and the sun, kept alive the neighborhood, just propped its streetlights drunk. And drunk and came home tired and battered us in the evening. Only the lucky ones with a story to tell tomorrow. And Horace was our guiding light. If you came home late and only as an idiot and there in the high light was still on ... well .. it was not so late and so perhaps you were not alone (there was no escape for the idiot). For some of us grew up without parents or with parents too busy, was a kind of father. Why this should be a father at the bottom: ... and point the way there.
