I have seen my future as a writer. Here it is.
I like this old guy, who is younger than I am. This is his place, just off the corner of Santa Fe and Uriarte in Buenos Aires. There is a church on the corner, so maybe he gets some spillover. I want to grow out my beard and maybe exercise a bit less so I can look like him. I’m close now. I want a cup and a decent seat, something to read nearby. For a coin donation, I will read something, a bit of prose maybe, something that has risen to the level of mediocrity to which I wish to become accustomed. It takes a lot of work to be mediocre. But I want a cat on a long leash to stay with me, a calico cat, so children will stop to pet it and their parents will drop a coin in my cup, and then I will read something mediocre to polite applause.
I am content with this future.