Never kissed a girl

The old man sat to the left. There was a wooden chair on which he sat that had been there forever and at one time had belonged to Sue. It creaked when he leaned forward to rest his head on his hands.

To his right, in the corner, kneeled up against the wall was Joe. He cradled a guitar and plucked away at a few strings, pretending to keep the notes to the Roy Orbison tune that was playing faintly in the other room. Joe didn't make much of Roy Orbison, but he found it kept him occupied and made him stop thinking of her so much.

The young man was still in bed, just as he had been for most of a week. He looked sickly pale and every so often he'd let a slight moan, almost inaudible, and he'd wheeze as he'd struggle for breath.

Above, the full moon had come out and was casting its glow through the open window, past the dull grey buildings and over the rowdy city streets, and it made everyone a little off, and because of it nothing seemed really quite right.
- posted by Sigurd6/18/2004 11:27:00 PM