The Downtown Beat

Wine, Evening, Stars.  

Abe sat in a doorway, just off of the sidewalk.  It was another muggy night in Atlanta; it had been unusually hot this summer across the entire US.  Global warming, schmobal warming, it was too hot to worry about it.  Too hot to even think about it, and Abe was in no condition to do either.  The cheap wine he drank earlier was fully in his system and clogging all avenues of thought.  The grey suit he had put on at seven o’clock this morning was rumpled and stained.  The white shirt was torn and his tie gone…he vaguely remembered putting it around the bartenders neck at the..at…well where ever he had been.

The Sweetest Song is Silence..

Snowmobile, Apple, Darkness

“The sweetest song is silence…that I’ve ever heard..funny how your feet..in dreams never touch the earth”                     (“These Dreams” by Heart)

Kate flew through the woods.  A cloud of powdered snow kicked up by her skis caught her in the face, leaving icy crystals on her goggles and in her hair.  She was listening to her favorites on the mp3 player as she went along.  Right now the band Heart was playing and after that Roger Daltrey would scream “Who are you?”