Writing Together and Alone

It is a strange and lovely phenomenon that several of us analog writers—those of us who still prefer handwriting on paper with ink—share this space. Here at my favorite haunt, we huddle, both alone and together, in the rare and diffuse winter sunlight.

The spot is a store with a stunning two-story glass wall. On this Saturday morning, being studious writers, we don’t acknowledge one another. I seem to be the only curious person wanting to observe my compatriots at the bar: two women and a man.

Having imbibed a rich, sapid, and invigorating beverage, and feeling quite content in the moment, I considered whether it was time to return to the street for some photographs. I looked out past that massive glass wall at the bare, wintry trees lining the parking strip and decided to take a few photos to embellish a future blog post.