Late in the afternoon, before the young redhead dragged her tender butt home from another day in the salt mines, wherever, he liked to listen to random tunes.
On YouTube. Anything you can think of. He usually thought of good times. Why the hell not?
The old man had realized he was not afraid of death, Dying maybe, death not at all. What he was afraid of, he was afraid of losing other people.
His whole family was dead, except for a couple ex-wives. Who could stay lost.
So many gone. So many he would never get over losing.
He hoped somebody would still be here, somebody to miss him.