Short Story: THE WORLD IS ENDING AND WE'RE ENDING WITH IT
Our debt collectors and unwanted friends.
Back for 2024. I had a nice break. Thanks for hanging tight in my absence…
START
It rained for days on end after everything ended and Pat could barely get out of bed. We all thought it was his head, a complication (he was still dizzy), but we took him to the doctor and she told us he was still recovering, that he was probably depressed. She wrote out a script for pills and Pat sits there, pulls his jumper over his hands - the tattooed crosses - and takes the script and puts it in his pocket. That medicine didn’t even make it to the car.
As such, the time away from the touring didn’t do anyone any good. We all had our problems, our debt collectors and unwanted friends. Our choices were: the practice room, the cafe down the street, or whatever place we had to crash, most of which were sharehouses no normal person would live in. And the fucking rain. It never stopped. You couldn’t even go stand outside in the yard.
Eventually, Trina and Pat broke up. And I hooked up with Ramon. We spent days in his room listening to music. He was as he always was and the whole thing felt like a mistake. I didn’t care. We were all at the end of something anyhow. Perspectives change. The world was going to shit. So this boy I’d known since I was fourteen years old, a scatterbrain, a flake, a guy with the politics of a fifth grader, he’s probably the last person I’ll ever love.
END
— IAIN
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