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Microsoft Word - 2014_Great_American_Fiction_Contest-This_Elegant_Ruin-by_Erin_Bartels.docx

honor playing for you, sir,” she said as he took her wet hand in his and shook it firmly. “I hope the strike won’t last long.” “Yes, me too. You will be coming back, won’t you?” “Yes. Well, that is, I think so. I may end up going on the road a bit with the band and if things go well I guess it’s possible I won’t be able to get back. Can’t be two places at once.” Garrison’s heart began to panic in his chest. “I thought you said that was just a hobby.” “At the moment. But who knows, you know? I’ve got my whole life ahead of me. Gotta follow it where it leads. Thanks, again, Mr. Knight. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon.” She turned and walked to her car then and Garrison turned back toward the stairwell. After the sound of her car door shutting and the engine revving to life, Garrison heard a loud though muffled cacophony of guitars and drums and the whine of a voice that sounded like a cassette tape left too many summers in a hot car. Garrison watched the reflection of her brake lights on the concrete until she turned the corner and headed down the ramp, then he walked to the edge of the lot and peered down to the street below. His wet hair hanging limply in his face, he looked at the spot on the road where she would appear and then followed her car with his eyes as she headed east toward the place where the sun would rise in a little less than eight hours.


Microsoft Word - 2014_Great_American_Fiction_Contest-This_Elegant_Ruin-by_Erin_Bartels.docx
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