| OCR Text |
Show I try thinking about Florida, and how that salt air will feel at five in the morning, but already he's caught up with me and we're in synch and .every time my press is up there he is. And I swear to God he's staring at me, like there's something I can do to change things. I try not to look back but I can't and after a while I'm seeing just his lips and wondering if he really does drool on his pillow. Then somehow that gets me thinking about my Linda's knuckles and how they crack. All the goddamn time they crack. When we're in bed it drives me nuts. Donny had picked up the pace and I was staying with him, even though it was knocking me out and even though I wouldn't have had to look at him if I'd just dropped back a little. But we had some good fast blues going, as fast as I can ever remember, and I couldn't bring myself to break them. And it didn't seem to matter anymore what I was thinking because it was all getting kind of crazy like when you're at a party where everyone's drunk and things are spinning and there's no point in worrying or trying to make things stop. When I heard the ten o'clock whistle I didn't even finish unloading five, just dropped the air hose and headed for the Coke machine. My shirt was soaked and I could barely straighten my neck but all I was thinking about was two more hours, two more hours and I can go home. I got my Sprite and sat down and had taken a couple more aspirin when Chuck comes up behind me and asks what was going on with Donny |
