The Friendly Confines
By Tom Allman Jr.
I got a postcard from myself yesterday, postmarked from Twenty-Three years in the future. On the front was a picture of New Wrigley Field……
My weary eyes fluttered open, I could see Joe Jr. He’d hardly left my side in the last week. My kith and kin had all come and gone, saying goodbye to a skeleton that used to be me.
Joe Junior and I had butted heads after his mom had left. I surprised him one day at college and took him to a Cubs game. Two men, at the Friendly Confines, sharing a few beers and few laughs.
“Remember Old Wrigley in May,” I rasped. “Yeah Dad, I do,” his voice cracking. “I’m taking the boys on Tuesday wanna go?”
“Yeah I do Joe.”
The back of the postcard said, “Screw work, take Junior to a ball game.”
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