Chris was a "pensioner," as they called retired people back in the 1950's. He lived in a little cabin at our place, and died when I was eight or ten years old.
I spent a lot of time with Chris, sitting at his creaky table while he sat in his easy chair. He had taken a liking to me, or maybe he was just lonesome, as he lived a solitary life.
When his pension check arrived he would walk the half mil...
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