Moon on drums

“Place the call, I.P. As — soon as you’re done with your soda.”

“Oh I’ll be done as soon as I dial these numbers don’t you worry.”

“Don’t — forget the 4.”

“Nah. Never.” All the numbers were dialed. Soda was running out.

“Hallo?” came the voice on the other end, a familiar one. Soda: done. I.P. could talk freely.

“Send them over (*click*).”

—–

Kolya hangs up the phone; moves from bar to stage. “Guys, I hate to interrupt rehearsals but you’re needed down at the bay.”

—–

Part of the band remained. The ones that weren’t real.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0027, 0508, Paper Soap

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.