Listen To What The Man Says

[ceciliatan]

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

The splint was already itching by the time we left the hospital. I paid cash and they gave me the paperwork for a local HMO to fill out. The managerial part of my brain was saying we ought to get a group plan, for all of us, but it was drowned out by the jumble of thoughts I was having about Digger. What did he want? Why was he here now? What was I going to say to him?

Bart’s car was in the driveway behind what must have been Digger’s rental, a just-washed-looking Ford Taurus. Inside we found Bart, Michelle, and Ziggy sitting with Digger in the living room, laughing. Knowing Digger, he might have been telling dirty jokes, or embarrassing tales of my childhood. I didn’t want to know.

And there was no hiding the splint. Bart saw it immediately and said “Oh my god.”

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