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

Reminder: The current DGC fundraising goal is for $250 by May 15th, when the current plot arc will end. If you’ve never put into the tip jar, or haven’t in a while, now’s the time! The more money is in the kitty, the more hours I can devote to writing new material. Remember with each donation this month, you can vote for which secondary character you’d like to see a bonus story from, as well. Remo, Bart, Ziggy, Chris, Carynne, Jonathan, or even Digger? For donation instructions: click here.

At 10:45 in the morning I was awakened by the sound of the door opening partway and then the chain clunking hard against the door while a sort of Spanish-sounding woman’s voice muttered an apology. The door shut again and I found myself staring at the ceiling, as if my eyes were awake before my brain was. I glanced at the clock on the table next to me, the red numbers’ glow made faint by the morning light. I guess I had remembered to put the chain on the door last night but not to shut the curtains.

Bart rolled over and yawned. “One of these nights you’re going to put that chain on before I get home,” he said, which gave me a Twilight Zone moment, like he’d read my mind.

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

(Only a few more days to earn bonus posts for February! Click here for details and to see the tally in the comments.). Short version: all comments, retweets, new followers/likes, and donations get counted as 1pt, plus 5 pts for reviews on blogs or left on Amazon, Goodreads, or Smashwords!)

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

(Details on how to earn bonus posts for February! Click here). Short version: all comments, retweets, new followers/likes, and donations get counted as 1pt, plus 5 pts for reviews on blogs or left on Amazon, Goodreads, or Smashwords! You have until Feb 3rd!)

In the morning I woke up in Bart’s room–actually it wasn’t morning, it was just past noon, and Bart was elsewhere and Chris was blow drying his hair in the bathroom. My body felt as hot and wrinkly as the clothes I had slept in. In fact, I had slept with my card key in the back pocket of my jeans. Carynne had designated today as a laundry day in the schedule and it was just as well. The suite had been made up, cleaned and straightened; there was no way to tell if Ziggy had slept there or not. He was not there now.

In the shower I tried to think about what I’d say to him when I saw him again. I tried to imagine apologizing, but I couldn’t really think of what I’d be apologizing for, exactly.

I tried to imagine him apologizing, crawling on the shag carpet toward me like the way he did on stage, admitting his crimes and begging forgiveness while the city of New Orleans glittered and shone in the window behind me…

Seemed unlikely.

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