You May Be Right

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

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After Bart and I ate, we sat around in the mostly-empty restaurant in no hurry to leave. Late night patrons still laughed loud at the bar in the back and waitstaff drifted back and forth with new bunches of fresh flowers for the tables and full salt shakers.

Now that I was full, and probably better grounded, I brought my mind back to more concrete problems. “I don’t even want to see him right now.”

“Ziggy, you mean.”

“Who else.”

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