Gentrification marched its silent footsteps to the oak door of Moore’s Tavern.

Old Man Henry smiled and licked his wrinkled lips. If he couldn’t have it, nobody could. He grabbed the gasoline and lighter.

The starry night seemed brighter to him that night.

The stone chimney was all that remained.

Anthony works with numbers by day, and words by night! Happily married in the heart of Kentucky.