The stars were better here, Marc Love, or the Blue Man thought. The sky was bigger the stars were brighter. He could make out clearly satellites and even one shooting star crossed their line of sight while they barreled down the road. The man in the nice suit passed out in the back. He slept so much. Denver kept the conversation boring, bringing up war stories. Stories he mostly heard while he was over seas. Blue acted like he was listening. But he was trying harder to stay awake. He wasn't sure if the man in the suit was listening or if he really didn't care. He just kept sleeping. The only directions they were given was to keep driving. They were meeting someone, but they didn't know, or the man in the nice suit wasn't at liberty to say. Even when Blue was working with him he didn't spend this much time with him. It turned out he was older than Blue, cracks in his face deeper, and dark circles under his eyes deeper. Like pools of water. He hid them with glasses, but being so close to him you notice these things. No amount of money can hide these things. The car droned on, and Denver kept talking.
I'm gunna have to stop soon, switch my oxygen can. Maybe even change my bag. If you know what I mean.
He looked at Blue through the rear view mirror, then out the window up at the stars.
I'm gunna have to stop soon, switch my oxygen can. Maybe even change my bag. If you know what I mean.
He looked at Blue through the rear view mirror, then out the window up at the stars.
