Sunday, September 18, 2005

1964, New York - Somewhere between the start and end of September, the hot summers gave way to at least one cold rainy night. They rolled together on the cot in his apartment celebrating. One of them had found a copy of Miles Davis "Kind of Blue" and brought it back to his apartment. It was different, and it was infuriating, and it was lovely.

And they'd have 4 hrs. between 2 and 6am, before she had a curfew or he had a job or someone had to sleep. They'd spend a few hrs. together on the weekdays and do the old balancing act of becoming a painter or a business owner.

And on the weekends, before the tourists were gone, they'd take a week's vacation, and they'd go down to Atlantic City. They'd be K's and Q's at the poker table and hold up all weekend long, living high off their winnings.

But for now, Miles Davis was gonna have to do, and it did.


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