De la edición de Enero-Febrero 2019.


No longer sitting on a barstool dreaming about the road, he and his AA buddies are on it

As my alcoholism rushed down the road toward its final destination, my days were spent in bars looking at myself in the mirror and thinking, Someday I’ll …. 

My favorite was, Someday I’ll ride a motorcycle through the back roads of Vermont, with a cool breeze blowing through my hair and the rumble of loud pipes in my ears. I could almost feel it. But instead of making that happen, I shouted, “Give me another beer!”

-- John L.

Hernando, Florida

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