Flowers of Hell / Sympathy For Vengence

It had been a good night. And though this was more some woozy knowing than a full and fleshed out recollection it was proof enough for him. Peppercorn stars pecked at the night sky as he walked home alone through wide streets and the wider spaces between. A brief lilt of congealed smoke leaked from the pores of his jacket and teased out a memory from his head. A shimmering blur of guitars and laughter. Of wheeling crowds and of movement therein. Of Steve and of Joe and of Kate. He was smiling then and he smiled again. It had been a good night.

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