Chapter IX

George Packard stared at the blank paper in front of him. He could only write on paper! Typing onto a screen didn’t satisfy.

The words (he wrote) they tumble in the sand

Casting shadows of evening

Long afterwards

They lie

Windswept

Cast upon the dunes

Ashes to ashes dust to dust

Sweet memories do remain

A song sung in mountain time

The rattle of a train

Headin’ home on the IRT

Sweet music on my mind

Sweet heaven and sweet women

Sweet kingdom come

Just bury me deep on Gun Hill Road

Advertisements