I sat at a table in front of a dive bar. I was drinking a beer, reading some dark and obscure writing by Mark Twain about how corrupt American society was (in 1896), and watching Saturday afternoon traffic roll past me. A young woman a few tables away drank a bloody mary and fiddled on her phone.
Man in Crisis
Man in Crisis
Man in Crisis
I sat at a table in front of a dive bar. I was drinking a beer, reading some dark and obscure writing by Mark Twain about how corrupt American society was (in 1896), and watching Saturday afternoon traffic roll past me. A young woman a few tables away drank a bloody mary and fiddled on her phone.