“Four hours?”

She questioned, amazed at my devotion to the dying cause. It wasn’t that bad a drive, just a stretch up Route 55.

I smiled halfheartedly, and replied “Four and a half, I’d say. Always need time for those stops along the way, right?” She laughed, letting me see a smile I’ve become acquainted to over the course of the show. She raised up her cigarette to take another hit, I felt a drop of water hit my forehead. “You gonna miss it all?”

I took out my phone to check the time, before putting it right back and replying “The broken amps? The out of tune guitars? It’s music at it’s rawest AND purest. Guess we’ll always have the vinyls, eh?” I sighed and pulled my pack of cigarettes from my pocket, then turned back to her and asked “You got a light?”

She smiled again and pulled out her Zippo, lighting the smoke in my mouth.

“Maybe we can start a band, one day.” her sentence trailed off, the sarcasm dragging it to the depths.

I laughed, taking a hit of my cigarette.

“Maybe.”