Billy O’Callaghan, Fiction
I had seen him years before, back when he was still in something like his prime, when he was trying to make a name for himself as if that were a thing which mattered worth a damn. And it’s funny, but he looks the same as I remember, more or less, anyway, except that the edges are gone, all that finesse and guile. Time, I suppose, turns everything soft. Now he has become just another old fighter, sloshed on one too many hits to the head. He looks the same, if you can see beyond the fur of bad or at least questionable living, but even from a long way off you can tell that damage has been done.
- See more at: http://blr.med.nyu.edu/content/archive/2014/spring/towel#sthash.pUzIVhNZ.dpuf