They had been looking forward to this gig for so long. The band had worked real hard to get there. But there was no way she could make it now.
Her beloved Fender Squier lay smashed on the pavement, the sight of the shattered pieces of wood spread across the road made her feel like crying. She was so mad at herself for not having been more careful.
The venue was dark and deserted but she was sure that she would find him here. The sound of his guitar echoing thru the empty halls confirmed her hunch.
She hesitated for a moment before the crossing stage door, she wasn’t sure how she was going to face him. The notes coming from behind the curtain were fast and furious, so unlike the way he usually caressed the strings.
The sight of his bloody fingers and the splattered stains they left on the white Flying V filled her with pain.
She wanted to say so many things, try to explain.
“I’m sorry. It was late. I was so tired and in a hurry to get home. I must have dozed off on my bike. I must have crossed the lanes. I never saw that truck coming. It was so fast I didn’t even feel it.”
She wished that she still had a body so she could put her arms around him.
But it was too late now. She could feel time and space turning into a whirling vortex around her. The gentle but firm pull was erasing everything she had been, perhaps writing the first lines of what she would become.
“No!” She though. “Not yet!” There was one last thing she had to do before she could really let go.
Holding tightly to the last vestiges of her quickly fading will, she reached to him, and gently whispered in his ear.
“I love you.”
His hands froze mid note.
The wall of bottled rage and pain inside him suddenly cracked and shattered.
For the first time since that day, he allowed himself to cry.