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Lonely Writer

“You need to get out more,” people would say to him. ‘Why?’ he thought to  himself. He spent twenty two years going out and socialising when he was younger. The only catch was that his socialising involved alcohol.

At first it was just a few social drinks but as time progressed he would find himself drinking before going out to social events. He was never a great fan of chit-chat but alcohol made it tolerable. Soon he was turning up to events drunk.

His wife could take no more. She tried everything but couldn’t make him stop. He was beyond help by this stage and the marriage ended in divorce.

Sobering  up after the divorce he continued to socialise but it wasn’t the same. He reverted to his dislike of idle chit-chat and took to staying at home where possible.

Once sober he much preferred night-time hours, avoiding the hustle and bustle of the day. When he was forced to go into town to pay bills or do his shopping, he often wore his sunglasses to avoid recognition. When it came to town activities he was very much a ‘get in there, do it and get out’ sort.

He didn’t care much for bumping into acquaintances in town. To him, town wasn’t a place for a chat. To him, a place for a chat was at his house where smoking was permissible and no conversation or foul language was off limits There were no inhibitions.


He was obsessive by nature and busied himself by either recording his own music or writing; poetry, books and blogs. He would spend months at a time recording music then tire of it so would take to feverishly writing. His writing was heavily focused on nature.

He was happy with his own company. Did he need to get out more? Me thinks not.