Millie sat beneath the sycamores, trying

Millie sat beneath the sycamores, trying to escape the heat of a hot Savannah night. Lightning bugs flashed in the night sky. Her lemonade glass was empty. Beau was 20 minutes late
but she was accustomed to his tardiness. Welcomed it even. He would always overcompensate with some grand gesture or thoughtful gift. He laid down his motorcycle on her sidewalk &
walked up her front porch. The dog launched itself at him. It gripped his arm. Luckily he had leather crash suit on but still. This was going to leave a bruise. Just then Warren
Beatty showed up dressed like Dick Tracy and started asking about Madonna. So the dog
lost it. "I mean why the f*uck do I have to sit here and put up wit this?" Then the dog left for greener pastures.
He sat and watched as the train departed slowly. Greener Pastures had sounded like a nice place in the brochure. He had not expected to find a town populated entirely by
moon faced morons who sniffed, yes sniffed, at him suspiciously. In the diner, he took a seat at the end of the counter. The waitress slid a menu towards him. Reaching for it, he
ripped out the appetizer section, blew his nose on it, stood up, wadded the snot infused in his fist and scream, "ALL RIGHT IF ANY OF YOUS GUPPIES ATTEMPT TO SING THAT SONG
I WILL HAPPILY JOIN IN. "PROUD MARY" IS A GREAT SONG!"
However joining in was harder than had first seemed. The key was all wrong. How could he remember the notes?

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