This afternoon, I went to the market. As I was locking my car, I noticed an old man in the driver’s seat of a van. His head was down, as if sleeping, and my idle mind thought “Oh, he’s probably having a nap, waiting on the wife.”
In about fifteen minutes, I came back out. He was still in the same position, so I went over to his window to check on him. He had a book propped up against his steering wheel, and looked as if he might have fallen asleep while reading. I stood there for another minute or so, to see if he was breathing, and he was. I left without trying to wake him up.
My wife said I should have. I think she was right.
Lee Dunn has been writing since the age of 18, but found that work got in the way for the ensuing 48 years. In his home town of Toronto, Ontario, Canada, he reveled in his independence at an early age, and spent as much time as he could exploring the city’s Arts scene. He was introduced to poetry and prose by the works of two literary giants, namely J.R.R. Tolkien and J.W. Lennon and thence fell in love with the written word. His work includes poetry, short fiction, and personal essays, and ranges in theme from the surreal to the horrific, nostalgic, and themes on the human condition. He has been published on Spillwords.com, The Dark Poets Club, Journal of Undiscovered Poets, Crepe & Penn Literary magazine, and the Shelburne Free Press.