Lust for Life

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

I insisted we get together and play some of the old material the next day. Ziggy never made it back to his apartment that day. He discovered everything in the bag had been laundered. I didn’t remember doing it but I must have, when I was freaked out. That whole week was a blur. Week? However long it was before we went to Mexico. He changed into clean clothes and we hung around all day. I showed him the Mac in the basement. We walked to get a late lunch in the middle of the afternoon at the Vietnamese place I liked.

While we were walking back he said, “I’d forgotten how nobody in this town gives a fuck who we are.”

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