Groovy Tunes, Friday
It'd been long enough since the last attack that Dante found himself poking at the guitars again. Partly to distract himself from wondering when the next one would be. Partly because the jittering had worn off and a completely different kind of restlessness - the bored kind - had hit him again.
He didn't have the money to pay for as much as a pick right now. He knew that. But come afternoon, the boredom had conquered enough of his reservations. He picked up the red-and-black guitar and tried to remember the chords Starsmore had tried to teach him last time. Without the amp. For now.
He wondered which chords the Elena Huston record back home in his trailer used.
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He didn't have the money to pay for as much as a pick right now. He knew that. But come afternoon, the boredom had conquered enough of his reservations. He picked up the red-and-black guitar and tried to remember the chords Starsmore had tried to teach him last time. Without the amp. For now.
He wondered which chords the Elena Huston record back home in his trailer used.
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