I'm drowning my sorrows
In a juice that ferments
And brewing more troubles
As I feel more content
The end of my palate
Tells me it's time
I've returned, I am there
At the end of the line
The music is playing
The lights are still on
And when the music is over
We'll be present at dawn
The End of the Line
by 
Victor Gente Delespejo
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Posted: Thursday, April 5, 2007 Word Count: 58 Summary: A lonely night at my favourite rock bar, listening to immortal tunes and chucking down Belgian Ales. The barman is a magician, juggling spirits and CDs all at once. Not a drop is spilled, not a note is missed. I ask for pen and paper and reach the end of the line. One year later, the barman, a good person and friend, dies in a plane crash. This is for him. |