Over at Spelk today with a new flash.
by Graham Wynd
The night Billy died was the best of our lives but we couldn’t talk about it to anyone afterward. I guess that’s what held us together for a time. Nothing lasts forever. Don’t let anybody tell you otherwise. We’re all just ghosts under the skin.
I won’t tell you the band’s name. Everybody knows it now, but back then they were still ours. They hadn’t broke through. I know you think it’s just hipster snobbery, liking them before they were cool. I swear it’s not that. It was seeing them rise like angels. They had been just like us but then they took wing.
It was like magic. In the night they rose and we with them, higher than we’d ever been before. Billy and Davy and the others weren’t into them like Janey and me, but they got like a contact high from all the people…
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