Drem: How old are you, my friend?
Tony: I’m in my forties, a fact that still shocks me constantly. There are days when I feel so much older than that, and there are days when I feel like a boy pretending to be a man and nobody’s noticed yet. When will I grow up? And how is it I’m not dead yet?
D: Where do you live?
T: Put it this way… I wouldn’t mind living elsewhere. I live in a quiet neighbourhood close to the city. There’s a smattering of wild life here which is nice. It’s nice to hear the magpies warbling in the mornings. It’s not so nice to have big dogs barking at you from behind fences. Big dogs give me the willies, even when I know they can’t possibly get to me.
D: Do you have a profession besides blogging?
T: I’ve had a string…
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Still Another Writer's Blog 
Thank you so much for reblogging this. It’s very kind of you!
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Excellent work! And I like how you distinguish between “writing for a living” and “writing for therapy” (as well as how they can overlap).
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