Westward Vignette

Sponsorships - Les Georges Leningrad

Hard Time - Daniel Johnston

LeRoy and I walked home last night after watching our friends play songs in a restaurant bar on the east side of town. The beer was too expensive, and we spent far too much money. In the early hours of a fresh day we found ourselves smoking our last cigarettes in the street. Ducking under awnings to stay dry we stopped in every slice pizza joint that was open along the 12 block stretch back to the train station. I took the train, LeRoy took the bus, and before long I was alone in car 0089, free from the rain that hasn't stopped in weeks. I looked at my reflection in the dark window of the car, with the lights of the city streaking across my face, "We have known each other for such a long time," I said to myself out loud. My hair was wet, dripping, and pasted onto my creased forehead, which seems to grow more furrowed every year. "Yes, we have," I said in response. Then the circular grill holes drilled into the wall of the car chimed in, interrupting the strange moment, announcing that I had arrived at the station closest to my home.