Outside the club, the snow falling over me in light flakes, I give the bouncer my name. He looks over a sheet quickly, makes a check and lets me enter. The club’s warmth fills me and the smell of smoke comes from the long hallway. I pass posters of past acts to grace the stage. It fills me with an ounce of nostalgia, and also the realization that I am not getting old. I am old.
I head to the back of the club to the ‘green room’, where another bouncer checks my name and lets me enter. Sparrow is relaxing on a couch, beer in hand. Two other members of the band, see me, grab their things and leave quickly as if they had previous marching orders.
“Hi Jackson. Glad you came,” Sparrow says as she stands, putting her arms around my neck.
The next thing I know her lips are on mine, warm and sweet. My arms pull her close. I hear the opening band doing their sound check.
1…..2…..3… Microphone check…………..