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Friday, August 27, 2010

Pocket

Andrew didn't know much of the world's ways yet. At sixteen, it was all a crap-shoot. But he'd seen just enough to understand how capricious the day to day could be. So when Janet didn't show at the Ee. FunkEe Four concert, he wasn't entirely surprised, and, he wasn't at all happy. Both were true, there for anyone to see on his downcast face.

He took the tickets out of his pocket (sixty bucks a shot, they'd cost him!) and considered throwing them up for someone to catch and think they must be deserving of good karma even if they weren't. Anyhow, he sure wasn't attending the concert alone. It wouldn't be the same and he wouldn't enjoy himself. It wouldn't be at all the same.

He put the tickets back in his pocket, where his hand stayed, his eyes leering the tickets through the thick blue denim of his jeans.  He made his way down the large cement steps that had carried so much anticipation just half an hour earlier. As he reached the bottom step, he saw a flash of her through the crowd, waving frantically, and calling Andy! Andy, wait . . I'm here!

3 comments:

Anthony Duce said...

Wonderful story, and exactly what has gone through my head in similar situations. Thanks

Bonhomme Sept Heure said...

In 3 paragraphs, you let us into his head, his heart, his soul....
Even if The Andrew I knew, is now 44... He still can hear the band playing that night and wishes he had Kissed His Janet during the show !!
"Good Work, Marjo. Very nice story."

Marjolaine Hébert said...

Ha..I apparently can write like a boy ;-)
That thrills me! Thanks guys!!