That was the question. 9 times out of 10. Where? They would ask me, and I normally shrug. At that time, someone normally shouts out a place. Sometimes correct, sometimes incorrect. Then they would agree with each other, and continue,
"Yea, ______,"
"Yea, ______".
That second one was me. What am I suppose to say, correct them? Show them that place matters. No instead I put my head down back to my page, there is something more interesting there. I think it was a doodle of a tree, it wasn't very good.
That's when I hear the splotchy foots steps approach the counter. Like a sticky-floors. A quick-beep and they are turned around back to their conversation about why they were here. A couple of people thought they came in solely to cause trouble. Probably, why wouldn't they? They don't how things are done here. How could they?
More squishy footprints, beep-beep.
Beep-beep-beep.
"Well I hope they find the other guys, can't be doing that here." My head pops out of my page, and notice they are a group of bar-hoppers. Check the clock. Yea, 'bout that time.
I get interested... interesting... how adding people make an interesting... point now.
I try to get up to speed. It's hard, now noticing how drunk they are. I get scribbled notes, some outta-towners come in for some night out, start someth...
I hear something loud overhead, maybe an angel or something.
I jump and they laugh at me. She continues on and so they go outside and...
My eyes notice now, the splotching a brown-red.
"I think one died."
"Yea, I walked right up on him, looked dead," and other one said.
Noticed those were first and loudest. I locked my self-away the rest of the night. Not sure if I was ever more scared.
How long ago was this?
Who were they?
Suddenly it stop becoming about where,
but who?
(now reread)
