Photo by Camilla Bundgaard on Unsplash

Perhaps self-realization was overrated as a goal, literary in nature but useless in life.

Ames sat splay-legged at a table outside the News Bar Café on Amalianstrasse. It was a rare sunny March spring day in Munich, the sun a hazy smear across the sky, heating the metal tabletop and warming his elbows. He lifted his sunglasses onto the top of his stubbled head and marveled at the way sunlight illuminated his beer glass, unthinking, sparkling…