![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.
Belle woke me up shaking me by the shoulders. “Come on, rock star,” she was saying, “time to go.”
I sat up slowly, waiting for my head to spin, but it didn’t. I knew the fever had broken before I touched my forehead. “I think I feel better.” The sky was dark outside, I realized, looking out her window at the illuminated offices of late workers across Sixth Avenue.
I stared at the glowing windows until she said “Driver’s waiting for you downstairs.”