I Let Love In

Chapter III: Picture This

I sat cross legged on my bed, gathering my earnings in a pile in front of me. Enough to buy a pair of diamond earrings without resorting to the clearance aisle. After all, diamonds were a girl's best friend, right?

Except I already had a best friend. And she was worth more than anything with a price tag.

I counted out the equivalent of a plane ticket and set it aside. The rest could go towards food and hotel....except one small portion....

That was going in my pocket.

I scooped up the brimming pile and stuffed it in a jar on my dresser. I sneezed. Ancient dust and autumn allergies were a tag team curse. Taking the remaining precious bundle I slipped on my flare jeans, tee shirt, and my favorite leather jacket and headed out. 

Lately the record store had been tempting me through whispers to drop in every now and then. And I simply couldn't refuse. My collection had only been growing since I gave in. Bob Dylan, Queen, Pink Floyd, Blondie, and even KISS had joined the ranks. 

Except Led Zeppelin. I still don't like Led Zeppelin. 

Tinkling bells announced my arrival and a blonde teen girl looked up from her magazine behind the counter and gave me a small smile. I'd seen her there a few times, mostly it was the owner of the shop. Shelf after shelf boasting the best of the best. Even if you didn't buy anything at the record store you were still surrounded by all your friends. I rifled through a few of them but there was only one album I had my heart set on. 

And there she was. 

Big Mama Thornton. I was in the presence of rock and roll royalty.

Ever since I heard 'Hound Dog' I needed more. If Miss Ella Fitzgerald (who is also part of my collection) is the queen of jazz, then Miss Willie Mae is the queen of blues. 

The sleeve was polished and smooth. I could see the store lights reflect off it. After a quick checkout (and look around the store for any more goodies) I stepped out into the autumn sunshine to walk home, clutching the new record to my chest. 

Birds were singing. Bicycle bells were ringing. Car horns were honking and disgruntled owners were swearing. 

I was home. 

Back home in Sydney Australia recuperating after a lengthy tour of the west coast of America the previous year. Well, lengthy for me. 

But that's another story. 

I made it my personal goal for the year to spend more time outside. Hoping it would help with my mental health. I even started my own garden. Growing only the most delicious vegetable ever, spaghetti squash. 

I could eat about a dozen. 

I just might....

I walked by a fast food restaurant where two men stood outside talking. Paying them no mind, I made to cross the street when a cloud of cigarette smoke smacked me in the face.

And suddenly I was on a bus in California. Someone was snoring, someone was talking, and at least three someones were smoking....

I had my headphones on backstage as the concert started. Crowds were cheering and drinking. Esky to my right overflowing with beer. Roadies and personal guests also overflowing with beer. My attention focused on the spectacle onstage. One man in particular....pouring out his soul through his fingers to the guitar strings...

That same man holding me in his arms as he kissed me. We were at a hotel. Late as it was, we were still awake. Spending quality time drawing pictures for each other and laughing when they didn't turn out. His beautiful face smiling like everything and his eyes sparkling. Finally taking that step and admitting our feelings....

My drunk arse confessing my feelings in the most obvious way.....

I blushed and hurried down the street. 

I had to read those letters again....