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A Hundred Stories - Feb. 26, 2026

  • Gary Hunter
  • Feb 26
  • 1 min read

how rare to reach 100 years old, even rarer

to have a friend of that many years

 

I didn’t know Bernard as a young,

middle age or older man, only

from the cusp of his century

 

we are good chums, sharing the silly

and deeper things that buddies do

 

but when a history lesson is told by a

history still living, just a few words

colors the pages of the past

and after ten minutes with him,

 

I’m in NY, leaning against a building on

Broadway, watching those overweight

cars rumble past slick-haired men and

hat-pinned women who cross between

Italian markets, clothing stores, a Chinese

laundry, fish and vegetable stalls, and

a newspaper guy, hawking his stack

 

and the star of the scene is one kid running

with an unpaid apple, weaving between a

sea of pressed pants and swishy dresses

to slip behind a trash can in his private alley

and enjoy his prize

 

now can you imagine a fruit that would

taste sweeter than one stolen by a street

kid, who’s stomach is growling?

 
 
 

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