"How long until dinner?" Blake asked. "About twenty minutes" Grandma Lylah said. Blake started up the old rickety stairs. As he got to his room he could smell the blueberry haze. "OH SHIT" Blake thought silently. He quickly shut his door and hid the fine bud. He felt a lot better after it was in his drawer. He set his board on the nightstand and pulled up his guitar. He had been working on some new riffs for about a week now, and had a pretty good idea for a new song. He started out with and E minor 7 then he dropped down to a g and back up to an E. It all came together mediocally. It sounded great. "Dinner!" Grandma Lylah shouted. Blake set the guitar down and flew down the stairs. Wednesday was his favorite day of the week because they always had chicken. Fried, baked, hell even boiled. Chicken was by far his favorite meal. He set the table as his grandmother was putting everything onto plates.
Blake went upstairs after dinner and layed in his bed. His eyes were growing heavy, and his heart started to beat a little slower. "A perfect end to a perfect day" Blake thought as he drifted off into dreamland.
