I drove into the city in a cloud of cigarette
smoke and a cacophony of sound—a collection of the great blues men and
women singing their upbeat solitude. "You gonna leave me, baby…I
gotta find me someone else." Mine’s a low, chunky car and I drive it
fast, especially on De Waal Drive. This morning, I drifted in like a
train on the sweep of well-known rails, allowing the neon glow of
electric mayhem, now washed by a pale-rinse, milk-white dawn to rise
and fall with the rhythm of the day.
Frank Paynter’s Voice and Vision…
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Amen to that!
**blush** **shuffle** **shuffle**
…ehem!
So it’s not only the girls you know how to flatter then, Frank. Thank you most kindly, but I must point out I keep the most excellent company. Something’s bound to rub off; if only occasionally.
Now, about the girls. You were promising to teach me…:)