Okay. So I had touched the guitar a couple of times, but only to like get a note for vocal exercises and maybe once or twice to hit a chord to practice the hymn. I had not “played,” for what I considered playing. I was nervous to really play. Which sounds stupid, but I was.
I didn’t think, however, that Ziggy wanted me to call that night. So Martin and I ended up channel flipping and shooting the breeze in his room until nearly dawn and finishing the last of a bottle of Jack. “I hear you’re coming with us this time,” he said at one point.
(Welcome to WeSeWriMo, Web Serial Writing Month! DGC will feature 3 posts a week all month!) When we got to the bus I got a better look at Courtney in normal light, in the front lounge. I put the shades down, and the interior lights were up full. My little sister. She had been, what, […]