I pause before Ace's mansion staring up the winding driveway. It's in complete disrepair. Ace was such a total hoot. We had some seriously fun times here in Paradise. You can read about them scattered across these blogs, or not. Maybe you can even figure out what happened to him, Tracer never could.
I move on.
I glance up at Princess's castle. There's a party going on. Pets moving about, laughter. The beat goes on. I think about heading up there but maybe not right now, I have to get up early tomorrow. I've been hitting the gym for the last thirty-four consecutive days. Getting up at the crack of dawn, unwilling to break the streak. Afraid to break the streak. I'm not up late much anymore. I have new addictions to feed.
I move on.
I wander down a path past Jem's house. I don't see jem nearly as much as I use to, nearly as much as I want to but every now and then we cross paths and shoot the breeze for a few. It's nice, I hope it continues to happen. What jem's been up to is jem's to tell. She seems happy though.
I move on.
I wave to MsTara. She waves back from the shadows of her porch, sunlight bothers her. I watch her light a sincerely monster joint. She offers it to me across the distance, inviting me to chat.
Tempting, but it's been about four or five months since I've smoked anything. Every time I see her I promise to write in this blog and I don't; I end up disappointing both of us. She deserves better. I signal 'maybe later.'
I move on.
The snow crunches under my feet. I practice air riffs while I walk along. I'm relearning guitar, it's both a pain and a joy, like exercise. You should have seen this place in its heyday! Things change and people do too. My thoughts skip across my mind like a stone on water, refusing to settle on any particular one.
I look at the crater where lucky's house stood. It and lucky warped out awhile back with a bang, filled with joking and sadness. He may be back but I don't think so, then again what do I know? I play back the hologram he left behind smiling. Lucky was/is funny. I catch echoes of him from time to time, a distant, static filled, "Howdy." Maybe our paths will cross on some future date. One can hope.
I move on.
I enter the graveyard and begin my prayers to these broken stones. Friday never really quite got over Tracer skying out but I hear she's formed her own PI business and can actually buy some real perfume. She's off the crutches too. Good for her. Tracer never found ace, never figured out what happened. Eventually it tore a hole in him, he fled to Bangkok figuring ace must have gone there, after all that's what Tracer would have done. Lucy was waiting.
I stare down at these broken, forgotten stones. Smiling ruefully I mutter, "Dumb ass" focusing on one I say a silent prayer to times gone by...
Tracer Bullet Billy
I move on
I move on
