the guitar man

fish is rumbling through a little box with photos he's found in a cabinet in the room behind the stairs I use as my office. sneaky little fucker, he's crawled up on the couch there, even brought his pint-sized teacup. I see him all cozy there, so I sigh and take my jacket off, hanging it over the doorhandle.

"you all right, fish?" he looks up, his puzzled face on.

"who's this?" he asks, holding up a picture of a man in a crumpled cowboy hat. I sigh again. "that's the guitar man, fish"

"what happened to him?" fish takes a sip from his lady grey. I sigh again and rub my eyes with both hands, tired and weary from a day trying to save the butts of my clients. I know he won't let go untill he gets his answer or he'll sulk for the rest of the night and will bang the pots and break a few plates while cooking my dinner.

"the guitar man was someone a looooong time ago. never figured that one out, though I allowed him to get a foot in my door and it shook me up quite a bit." I say and I can already feel a bit of a migraine oozing into my brain.

"huh." oh yeah, fish's really awesome with words at times.

I open the left drawer under my desk and take out a bottle of laphroaig, grab the two glasses conveniently stacked on a little tablet in the bookshelf and carry the lot over to the table by the couch. I pour each of us an inch and hand him a glass while pulling his legs up by the cuffs of his jeans, so I can sit down, place his feet over my lap and lean back. savour the first sip and close my eyes.

"you really have a knack of dragging my corpses back to light, dya know that, fish?"he chuckles mildly, snuggling deeper into the pillowhe's resting against, tasting the whiskey. we're just relaxing there on the couch for a while, both of us enjoying the drinks and I'm already counting down from 10 when he nudges my belly softly with his right foot.

"so, what happened with the guitar man?" fish just can't shut his mouth.

"well, we met and I thought it was rather good and then the guitar man started to play stupid games, and I just didn't have that kind of patience, so I let him play with himself and then he disappeared." I sigh some more, downing the rest in my glass down my throat. it burns. I remember the burn of the guitar man.

I turn to lookat fish. "is that sufficient?"

"may I have more whiskey please?" he's smacking his lips.

"sure thing." I reach over and pour us some more.