Sunday, January 18, 2015

johnny exploded

He peeled himself off of the cheap, stained, and well-worn rug. He was still a little numb and still a little dizzy. Dried blood from his earlobe had stained his green t-shirt, a shirt now covered is sharpie dicks and skulls. He gingerly toyed with the two safety pins still thrust through his ear.

He smiled. She’d given him those piercings.

In a single night Johnny felt he’d been reborn as a punkrocker. The music was too loud and too honest and too raw and completely without pretentions. Vicodin and malt liquor and Seagram’s 7 pushed him through to a new world of broken glass and wild ideas and deep-felt passion.

Plus there was the girl with the bright blue hair and sparkling brown eyes. She’d kissed him under the streetlights beside a burning barrel in the park far past curfew.

Johnny would never be the same.

No comments:

Post a Comment