He remembered the streets
The businesses coming and going
He had been a part of all of that
Helped build that
But now everything was a phone
Or an app
And everyone was glued to their hands.
He had a wet bar
He would pour a drink
As much as he wanted, he could never smoke and drink together.
He saw the City change.
And somehow he disappeared. Like all of those businesses. Those start ups.
He looked in the mirror. His skin and his gray hair. He was invisible even to himself.
The years fly by like rain in the wind.
And there is something painful about growing old. No one ever tells you. Or maybe they did tell you, they were just part of that elderly chasm and you never heard them.
After you reach a certain age. You become invisible. No one really hears you and no one really sees you. Not like they used to.
They just group you all together, like a pile of dead leaves raked together and forgotten.