Don’t Fear the Reaper

[ceciliatan]

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

I walked down Bourbon the other way, not tempted to stop and now vaguely wondering when I’d lost Bart. I didn’t see any of the others and felt a pang of guilt over Carynne; she’d have liked it here. When I got back to the room I called her, only thinking after I’d dialed that perhaps it was a bit late.

“Hello?” She sounded awake but puzzled.

“It’s your boss,” I said, holding the phone on my shoulder while I sat on the edge of the bed and untied my shoes. “We’re in New Orleans.”

“Omigod, isn’t it fabulous? Did you just get there or have you seen anything yet?”

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