Catching Lola Rivers ✔️

3:1

She
Today, I found Kyle Harding sitting at our house's front porch. Smoking his usual cigarette, an acoustic guitar lying beside him. As soon as he saw me, he stood up and snuffed out the cigar under the heel of his sneakers. 'You're learning how to play guitar today,' he announced in all seriousness and pulled me away from the house. Thank goodness I put on some decent dress before I went out. I expected he'd take me somewhere far, but we wounded up running a short distance to a vacant lot where he parked his beaten up jeep.

He guided me on climbing up the back of it where a blue blanket was laid out. There we sat and I watched him cradle his guitar and pluck out the first chord to a song I've never heard until then.

'When you are with me, I'm free...I'm careless, I believe. Above all the others, we'll fly...this brings tears to my eyes, my sacrifice.'

The song went fine with his voice, which was smooth and yet rough around the edges at the same time. By the time he finished, he told me a title and a band I soon forgot. I told him I didn't know he could sing. He just laughed. And god, he was beautiful. I watched his face glow with it, thinking this was how I wanted to keep him in my memory.