“Well. Here we are.” And then he went in.
I’m scared, Bimbo thinks, hesitant to do the same and remaining outside. Do I really want to know how this works? Will I look at Fink Humann in a different way after this, a different light? Maybe it’s best–”
“Are you coming or are you not?” Stanley poking his head back out of the store’s door.
Cooommming, she thought. That’s the problem. That’s not what her type does, she’s found out. Nor his.
—–
But for Blue Moon Kentucky, seen here searching in vain for anything else besides that one solo album a bit earlier in the day as record store owner Charlene the Punk looks on smugly: no problem as it turns out.
And that’s when the whole scene climaxed. At the video store. Special viewing room as the static on the TV turned into something else, something Bimbo had never seen. And never wanted to see again.
(to be continued)
Sunklands 