More Than Words

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

Christian woke me up the next morning knocking on my door. I’d slept maybe four hours and sat up in bed with all my clothes on, wondering if the house was on fire. “The mail’s here,” he was saying.

I pulled open the door and he thrust an oversize envelope into my hands. “What is it?”

“That’s what I want to know, stud. It’s got your name on it personally so I didn’t open it.”

The address label said it came from an office in New York and was made out to “Daron M., Moondog Three HQ” and our Allston street address, not our PO Box. “It’s gotta be from Jonathan.” I tore open the envelope and four slick copies of Spin magazine spilled out into my hands.

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