A minor writer should still have his day in the literary sun. The light of such work may shine bright just briefly, but for the descendants of a writer such as Alfonso Drill, that light is forever bright. So here presented are some of his works, vignettes he calls them, in the shape of the letter L, because that's how his thoughts, his observations, fell onto the page. That his granddaughter rescued them is a testament to his family presence. His speech too often came out in a growl, disarming to strangers, but to family he was kindly and considerate, and generous in his ways. His words coming from a man ill at ease with the world, and yet a man at ease with himself.