“Draw what it feels like when you’re not able to write,” Amy told me.
“Do what?
“Just draw it. It can be whatever you want. I’m going to the restroom.”
She was trying to help me overcome my “writer’s block”. I stared at my pint glass, almost empty, before taking the last sip. There were dollar bills with people’s names, or football teams, or hometowns written on them, stapled to the walls and ceiling. A man sat down two stools to my left and asked the bartender how many were up there. I …