Big Women In The Shower Notes

Sitting at a table in a filthy corner of the cafe frequented by retirees idle domino lovers, the cup and smoking banned at home, was busy observing and taking notes for the novel that he knew would not write ever. The scoring, little or nothing, I had to do with those old men who seemed not to know about more than politics, football and prostate problems, but nevertheless, the exercise of looking at them, for some reason superfluous or, In contrast, very deep, acted as "pull factor" for ideas steep, almost compulsively, seemed determined to colonize the small notebook. After just over an hour and with the spoils of a lot of written sheets, he left the room, noting, on the corner of my eye, looksthe elderly, smiling at a sudden truth, perhaps uncertain, if he wanted to be a writer, should treat the words with less reverence.