Chapter 19

Gone were all the people, gone the colored reflections on the waves heading down the aisles, and even the music fizzled and dripped to a wet, splooshy, unmerciful, finish.

We sat there stunned, clinging to each other, glad we were on the balcony, wondering what in God’s name had happened, wondering if we were going to be all right.

Into the silence that followed, I said, “I’m going to write a book about this. It’ll have to be called fiction, though, because nobody would ever believe it.”

Herb replied, “Dedicate it to that drummer up there, Matt, or that what’s his name art guy, David? Devon? Dane? Yeah. To Matt and Dane, for giving me ideas.”

Sometimes, laughing in the darkness is the best thing you can do. Although, sometimes kissing is even better.