It's been a month since Beverly left. Bill doesn't write to the losers as often as he used to. Richie has been getting better, he has noticed how Bill never writes to them anymore, not even Stan. They'll maybe get a letter once a week, it used to be at least 4 letters. Maybe he just isn't doing anything interesting, or he's forgotten about them.
Richie lays down in the hammock he's been in many times before, he came alone this time though. Richie stares up at the poorly made wooden ceiling. The ashtray Beverly used sitting on a small table next to him, its bright blue and she put small stcikers around the edge, it's very Beverly. There's posters of all of their favorite bands up on the walls, a jar full of shower caps so spiders don't get in their hair. Richie still refuses to wear them. There's a framed picture of Georgie that sits on a small table. They rarely come down here anymore, after Bill leaving they felt there really wasn't any point.
Richie looks over at the ashtray and decides to take it. He's the only one who smokes in the group now, and it's a nice memory. Richie goes up the small stairs with Beverly's ashtray in his hands.
As he walks towards his house he sees a big moving van sit in Bill's driveway. Their here. Richie sighs and trys to get a good look at who's moving in. It seemed to be a couple, living their best life. Little do they know that in Derry you're not aloud to have a good life. Richie wonders if they know who used to live there, all the memories, all the tragedies, all the laughs, all the tears, all the sleepovers, all the porn magazines read in that house. They have no idea.
The couple see Richie and give him a small wave, he nods his head and walks away. Oh boy the other losers are going to get a kick out of this.
-GROOVYLADY
