Baeble. We shared free pizza, commiserated about the week, and decided that yes, Deluka would be our last show of CMJ. We parted ways, happy, our dance-rock bones sufficiently rattled... "Vámonos, amigos," Vince whispered, and threw the busted leather flintcraw over the loose weave of the saddlecock. And we rode on in the friscalating dusklight.
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