George Melia

I am in a bar. There is a child seated at a table with a woman I know. She is very young, maybe 4 at the oldest. I walk over to the table, greet the woman, and play with the little girl. I make her laugh, tease her a little, and she giggles a lot. Suddenly she is a little boy. I ruffle his hair, straigten his little jacket (because now he is in a suit) and tell him that he looks good. The mother is smiling, and I smile back and say goodbye.

I return to my seat. There is an old man there with some teeth missing. He says, "I see George Melia clearly in you."

I say, "Really? You knew my great-grandfather? What was he like?"

"A lot like you," he says.