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I prefer to see him as someone not without certain talents, personal charm or humour, who thinks he's an underappreciated writer... he comes to sit there almost every day unless it rains, watching the world go by and day-dreaming of a really big novel he would write some day and make a fortune on it.. meanwhile he contributes to a gossip column in a a yellow press magazine making just enough money to pay for his rent, alcohol, cigarettes and coffee...if you talk to him, he will lament to you about there being a wealth of horrible writers out there who are massively successful...
p.s. a fine candid shot, Oliver, with a story to be imagined

p.s. a fine candid shot, Oliver, with a story to be imagined
