Peanut Gallery

Little Black Submarines by the Black Keys

"Hey June. It's Alan again. I, uh, I just wanted to try calling you again." Alan cleared his throat and stared down at his shoes. "Listen, I know this is bad timing, but I wanted to see if you wanted to get together for a drink or something. So, um, yeah. S-see you later." Cringing, Alan slid down the inside of the glass photo booth, letting the phone drop to his side. He pressed his hands on his legs to stop them from shaking and took a deep breath. Suddenly, Alan needed a smoke. He pulled out a cigarette and lighter from his pocket. He barely could light the stick, but as soon as he did, Alan took a long drag. Instead of relaxing him, however, it only made Alan more nervous. 
When Alan shoved the lighter into his pocket, his fingers brushed something. Pulling it out, Alan saw that it was a blue pill. Such a frail little thing. One swallow would be all it took. The question was, would Alan do it. 

Hero Lyrics by Family of the Year

Do you remember the days we spent running under the stars? Those times we laughed so hard that the world thought we were crazy? But we didn't care. We never did. It was a funny thing. At first it seems endless, as if for the first time the world had decided to stop, just for us. Just because those minutes were too precious to let go. But they slipped away, like water in a fist. And no matter how hard we tried to hold on to it, it always emptied. 
Now, you're gone. I can't whisper to you the secrets of the world, like I used to. I can't hold your hand or see your smile. But that's OK. I know you're waiting for me, just like I'd wait for you. Someday soon I'll come and join you. Someday we'll be together again.

Hero by Family of the Year

The letter came on a Saturday morning. It was a great honor, they said, James would be defending his country. It didn't matter. Everyone knew better. As James's mom hugged him close to her chest, her tears staining the back of her shirt, all he could think of was "Not me. Please, God, don't let it be me. Not now." James knew he wasn't brave enough, or clever or strong enough for a war. He knew belonged back home, helping to take care of the farm. But the government didn't care. So when they came, James was more scared than he had ever been before. When they handed him the pistol he almost lost it. And when the blood of others stained his hands, James cried. But he fought on. Because, in the twisted view of the world, it was the right thing to do. James could only hope that one day he would return and that maybe, just maybe, things would be the same. And yet, in his heart of hearts, James knew this could never be true. War changed boys into hollow men, and men into ghosts. If he returned home, nothing would be the same. But still he fought on. Because what other choice had he?

Clair De Lune by Debussy 

Claire died on a Thursday. The last leaves of autumn had just given away to the chill of winter, and the moon was hanging high and clear in the sky. I sat with her, holding her hand. We reminisced about the old days, when life was simple and yet perfect. So much had changed. Her death was as simple as one falling asleep, for which I was grateful. I don't either of us would have wanted it any other way
Now, standing at the funeral home, all I could think of was the day we first met. The old piano shop that my father used to own. I still remember the sound of the keys singing as her eyes met mine. I wish now that I could turn back the clock and relive those first few moments. What was it that Shakespeare said?
"Time is unending for those who wait."