one hundred eighty-nine. [Goodbye to the Beatnik.]
Perrin’s busy watching the raindrops against the other side of the windowglass, and so he doesn’t notice when Anthony arrives.
“Thank you so much for this,” says Anthony, breathlessly, clinging with both hands to the handle of one small suitcase. He’s paler then Perrin remembers, a bit thinner, he thinks.
The other man doesn’t trust his voice, just nods, smiles sadly. Anthony follows him out of the bus-station and across the damp parking-lot to Perrin’s second-hand green car. “It isn’t far,” Perrin says, finally, and Anthony nods.
Anthony is asleep in moments, and Elton John is still playing on the radio.
“Thank you so much for this,” says Anthony, breathlessly, clinging with both hands to the handle of one small suitcase. He’s paler then Perrin remembers, a bit thinner, he thinks.
The other man doesn’t trust his voice, just nods, smiles sadly. Anthony follows him out of the bus-station and across the damp parking-lot to Perrin’s second-hand green car. “It isn’t far,” Perrin says, finally, and Anthony nods.
Anthony is asleep in moments, and Elton John is still playing on the radio.