Now John at the bar is a friend of mine. He gets me my drinks for free. And he's quick with a joke or to light up your smoke, but there's someplace that he'd rather be. He says, "Bill, I believe this is killing me," as a smile ran away from his face. "Well, I'm sure that I could be a movie star if I could get out of this place."
Sunday, December 23, 2007
(this is one of those "what you wake up with" pieces)
It's the fear he lives with, the horror he expects to find.