DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> Who Killed Theresa?

Friday, May 27, 2005

This Ain't The NHL

Yes we played hockey this afternoon. Yes there was a reporter sniffin' around the rink for more news on Jim S (you could tell he was a reporter because he looked like a scout, but there sure-as-shit wouldn't be any scouts checkin' out us old farts).

I stuck to my story: Jim played hockey, Jim was a great guy (fellas', I'm not hiding anything, that's really all I know!).

A fun, fast game. A lot of young players were out who really kept us working. I got winded and had to take some air on the bench (for a moment I could feel Jim there, sitting beside me... but when I looked to my left he had gone).

Lately, when I lose people, there's this real feeling that they've just gone to the other side. It's like seeing tracers of them. You don't see them, but you know they're still there. And your glad they're around to guide you.

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