Sarge the landlord
Last updated 2/2/2021 at 3:58pm
I poked my head in the coffee shop door, got waved in out of the cold and found the veterans busy at their assigned tasks. One was selling coffee at the carry-out window. One was brewing up a fresh pot. Somebody was banging around in the kitchen. One was sweeping the floor. The rest were arrayed around the room in their lawn chairs, lifting their feet as the broom came by.
Sarge got up from his spot at the counter, cocked a finger at me and led the way around the corner to a dark, narrow staircase. “You’re the only one of the bunch who can climb these,” he said.
At the top of the stai...
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