It was dark. I looked out my window and saw clouds, and the moon, very bright. Got my camera and took a few. I almost never drink anymore, but I had a Becks, looking at this marvelous sky, waiting for my camera to say, "click."
I used to say that I remembered my childhood as a kind of dark age, with gray skies and dreary, stone walls, but now I'm not so sure.
I recall laying on the floor, on my back, with the crummy speakers of the crummy stereo on each ear, listening to Nights in White Satin, and swooning.
I recall laying on the floor, on my back, with the crummy speakers of the crummy stereo on each ear, listening to Nights in White Satin, and swooning.
"How can a thing be so good? What can this feeling mean?"
Nights in White Satin
Tuesday Afternoon
Nights in White Satin
Tuesday Afternoon