dusk

Kevin Morgan played his guitar that afternoon, just like so many times before..

Got his hands loose and his wrists and his fingers…

The day went on as just another day..

The ignorant driver crashed into his driver’s side, right at sunset.

Blew through the light.

You know, like an asshole…

I saw him a few months later,

“Can you tell the difference? In your playing? Even after it’s healed?”

He told me that it would never be the same.

Told me that his hands were still capable of doing the work, but there was something different in the wrist.

Luckily he was a lefty.

So the hand that was damaged was his strumming hand, not his chording hand..

I would be so sad.

I sat and played for an hour in the headphones today,and I got the mojo going.

Speed and bends and hauntings..

Pleasing your own ear…

I would be so fucking sad if that were stolen from me…

I went out for a coffee, and this dick-mongrel blew the red light, right in front of me…

I was paying attention, because I don’t trust these people …

Lucky for him..

I laid on my horn and saw his dumbass redneck truck go by..

A little boy in the passenger seat..

Good to know that he drives like that with his son in the car..

Aggressive.

Foolish..

The kind of battle you win with poison.

Someone so stupid and nearsighted..

Beating his chest like a rabid ape…

You only need a bit of cunning.. That’s how you beat that type…

He’s lucky I was paying attention..

Shit man.. I’m lucky I was paying attention..

The scenario made me think of Kevin Morgan, and his trashed wrist..

Pretty sure he got a legit Les Paul out of the whole thing, but I don’t care.

I wouldn’t trade anything for my hands..

Fuk Dat