How I’ll leave my mark on the world

I was polishing wine glasses behind the bar when the restaurant manager sat down across from me.“Pour two shots of Stoli,” he said. I set up two pony glasses in front of him and poured the shots. He slid one back to me and said, “Cheers.” It was a slow night and he wanted to chat.“So, why do you write fiction?” He asked, knowing that was what I did all day before coming into work. “Fame and fortune,” I said, giving my standard answer. “Not because you love it?” “Oh, I love writing. I would do it even if I never got published, but making money from it is certainly a driving force.” “Any other reasons?” He inquired with a raised eyebrow. “I suppose it’s how I’ll leave my mark on the world.” “Ah, your legacy.” “Yes. How about you, don’t you want to do something that people will remember you for after you die?” “So that strangers, people I don’t know, will remember me?” He shook his head. “No. My legacy is my children.” “No kidding,” I thought, “You have five of them.” He continued, “The time I spend with them, the experiences we have, the memories we make together will be enough for me.” 

Robert Evans Wilson Jr. / Image: Andrew Bush 1991