‘Reg, I’m sorry if I upset you the other day.’ I felt so bad, I had gone round to my elderly friend’s – the erstwhile alien abductee’s – house to apologise for being so rude to him.
He told me not to worry about it. ‘Anyway, what do you reckon, eh?’
‘What’s that, Reginald?’
‘I’ve bought a drumkit! I’m going to form a blues band.’
I couldn’t believe it. ‘Everybody’s forming bands these days.’
He began to reminisce: ‘I had an old kit in the spare room, years ago, when my wife was still alive. She used to tell me it sounded like I was building a shed up there.’
‘I bet she was lovely.’
‘Whatever. Anyways, I’ve made up my mind to really go for it this time – and book into your bloody studio. What do you reckon, eh?’
‘I’m sure it’s going to be a blessing for both of us, Reg,’ I told him.
Bouncing on the balls of his feet, a smile won his face. ‘See you later, Davy-boy.’ Somehow, it seemed to be a smile full of regret.
{ 2 comments }