"No," I say.
He prances back into our bedroom and crawls under the bed.
"HERE KITTY! KITTY! KITTY!" the Car Lady screeches next door.
Standing I close the window.
Something crashes downstairs so I make my way to the carport to see my Bicycle laying on it's side for no apparent reason.
"GET UP!" I yell. "You're not drunk!" and I storm back upstairs.
"Hey," she snarls looking dirty and drinking a beer.
"Not today!" I say.
Blowing cigarette smoke in my face, she takes a draw from her Pabst Blue Ribbon followed with a shot of bourbon and my Guardian Angel stares at me with yellow meth like eyes.
"Don't you have an album to promote?" I sigh. "Why don't you torture Jimmy Cochran?"
"You don't want me?" she snaps puling her robe back over her pasty white shoulder.
"No."
"Fine!" and she disappears leaving two empties and ashes on the table.
Goddess lumbers in, sighs heavily and collapses on the floor under my bare feet which always makes me smile.
Laurel, the 10 year old sends me a text, "I love you" and I immediately respond in kind.
Sarah's working so I have to leave her alone.
"Well," I sigh, standing to get ready for the weekly gig at the Nursing Home. "I guess I'll do it later. I can't think of a damn thing to write about."
