The Leaving

At the thought of them his eyes teared up, making his last

look at Lonesome Dove watery. The dusty street wavered

in his vision as if under a heavy rain.

~"Lonesome Dove" by Larry McMurtry

I was a fan from the days of Monroe Drive.

God knows, anyone who could keep the attention of a young man in his twenties must have had something going on. And for someone writing about, of all things, traffic and commuting, it was a minor miracle. But it was the writing man, by good God, it was the writing.

When I started this little joint, I had fews notions of where it would lead. Then, one day I stumbled upon Peachtree Screed. I was always reticent to contact well known writers, too afraid of the appearance of self-promotion, but for some reason Doug felt like an old companion. His reply to my few lines in an email were quick, effusive and full of exclamation. Doug Monroe was already reading me. And griftdrift's heart grew three sizes that day.

It was the simple knowledge that someone of Doug's talent read my ponderings which caused me to reach further. To be better. Both spoken and unspoken, he became a mentor. In time, he also became my friend.

Now, Doug is leaving us for better pastures in the north. I know the parting will not be permanent, but I will still miss him.

Vaya con dios, my friend. I promise I won't burn the saloon down before you return.