bitter basil, (hozier)

august 1st, 1969 - early morning

judy had been driving for god knows how long.
she checked her wristwatch, whose little hand rested on the two. the dark skies around her signaled that this was in the A.M.

she told herself she could keep going. that is, until she started to nod off in the driver's seat and nearly swerved into a ditch.

"fuck," she said to no-one in particular. "i need coffee."

she was currently in the middle of nowhere - some small town in northern virginia. driving down the main road, she saw a 24 hour corner store on the side of the street and thanked god that it even existed. she pulled into the parking lot without second thought.

a bell jingled cheerfully as she entered the store. an older black man sat behind the counter. judy wondered how many times she would have to thank god for this store.

"mornin', missy," the clerk grumbled, his kind face not matching his tired voice at all.

"mornin', sir," she said politely. "do y'all serve coffee?"

"in the back." she smiled and followed his directions, finding a blessed coffee dispenser - cream, sugar, and all.

she fixed her coffee in a to-go cup (with cream and way too much sugar - the color of her skin in june). on her way back to the counter, she picked up a carton of shortbread cookies, planning on dipping them in her coffee. mikey taught her that trick.

bshe placed her orders on the counter. "will that be all, missy?" the clerk asked.

"oh, can i get a pack of menthols, please?"

the clerk gave her a disapproving look - the cocked eyebrow that all black people gave as if they all were your mama or daddy - but obliged anyways, haphazardly tossing the cigarette box on the counter.

"that brings your total to... $6.50," the clerk calculated. as judy rummaged through her purse to procure the correct funds, the clerk continued. "i sure hope you aren't out alone at this hour, young lady."

"i am. but i can take care of myself," judy said bluntly. she placed a $10 bill on the counter, sliding her now purchased items towards her. "keep the change, sir."

"...you have a good day, now," said the clerk, dumbfounded.

judy waltzed out of the store. "ditto!" she called.

what she saw while walking back to her car would change her life.

-

andrew leaned against a street by a convenience store, smoking a cigarette. he would have gone in and bought something to eat, but he only had irish pounds with him. all of the banks were closed, so any hope of getting his money translated was lost. so he was, at that moment, effectively broke. his only hope was either pawning off his guitar (which, for obvious reasons, was out of the question) or pawning off his grandmother's engagement ring (and something - he didn't know what - was keeping him from doing so).

and this was his last cigarette.

"hey."

andrew turned, startled. a man stood before him, matching his height (which said a lot, seeing as andrew stood at a mighty 6'6"). he was obviously drunk, and he was obviously an angry drunk.