January 10, 2007
Page 15
There were repeated closings and lockouts at the college and, besides, I had some personal troubles I had to deal with. When I visited the shop again in the fall of '70, the regulars were completely different and hers was the only face I recognized. In any case, they were still playing hard rock but the shimmering feeling had vanished. Only her and the bad coffee were the same. I slid into the seat across from her and we talked about old friends over coffee.
Most of them were quitting school. One of them had committed suicide and one of them had gone missing. It was that kind of story.
"What were you doing for a year?" she asked me.
"A lot," I answered.
"Did you learn a little?"
"Yeah, a little."
That night, I slept with her for the first time.
Posted by tim at January 10, 2007 11:11 PM
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