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I was in the worst of spirits.

Friend of The Devil

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The next morning I woke with the pounding headache of a hangover. Larry had already gone to work and had left the newspaper open to the business section on the kitchen counter next to a half dranken cold pot of coffee. I made myself a bowl of cheerios and cleaned up the remnants of Larry's egg and sausage breakfast. As I washed the cast iron skillet in the sink with steel wool and a drop of Mr. Clean I couldn't help but think of the Gal I met near the fountain the other day. Her smile was like a shooting star aimed directly at my heart. I walked down the block to watch some street performers, there was a man about my age playing his own renditions of some classic songs on a Soprano Saxophone. I stood next to a college girl wearing a teal colored beret and her friend, put three dollars in the man's saxophone case and watched for a few songs.

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That evening when Larry got home from work I threw some pre-marinated cajun sirloin tips from the supermarket on the george foreman, poured us some sam adams, and turned the TV on to watch Frasier, our favorite sitcom of the time. As we consumed our meat and beverage along with some mashed potatos and carrots that i'd whipped up earlier Larry asked me a couple of serious questions, "Kevin, what do you suppose you'll do when you move out of my apartment? What's the missing piece of this puzzle of ours we call life?" I took a deep breath before answering him "Well, Larry, I suppose that all depends on what kind of a curve ball is thrown at me as far as occupation goes to begin with. And as far as what's missing, well Larry, I guess we may never know."

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