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Monday, August 8, 2011

Summer of '11

I am working on a creative non-fiction and this is what I have so far. What do you think?


Vibrations of voices from bar flies quickly replace the reverberations of the guitars and basses and the droning of the symbols. The once pink and green and blue strobe lights are dramatically replaced by the yellow iridescent lights; momentarily I am blinded from the shift from darkness to lightness.

Standin on your mama's porch, I hear from around the bar area, the volume of the radio now turned up for the intermission, You told me that you'd wait forever. From the corner of my eye, now used to the light, I spot my one best friend’s mother’s friend and her husband sitting at a table a few steps away.

“Hi—“ Those were the best days of my life—Bryan Adam’s clear, yet somehow raspy voice drowns my meek voice out as I stand in front of their table. Yet it doesn’t surprise me, music somehow mutes me and I was never one to be loud—I let my music do my talking as I have always been a shy girl. However, to get their attention, I speak a little louder and more forceful: “HI!”

“Hey, Jess! It’s nice to see you!” Lisa and her husband both smile at me and I sit down.

“How have you been?” I ask Lisa. “All of my friends loved their Tastefully Simple orders.”

“I’ve been alright. And I’m so glad to hear that.” She responds.

Oh when I look back now, that summer seemed to last forever, plays loudly in my mind—watching Eddie and Paul walk past me to set up the stage for the second set. And if I had the choice

Ya - I'd always wanna be there—to the strums of the guitar vibrating and reverberating from the bar, I follow Eddie and Paul or was it Russell; in a trance to Lenny beating away at his drums—momentarily—I know I definitely follow Eddie to the stage.

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