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Max. He used to be the super at 66 14th st, also he used to be a friend of the Sonic Youth early in the eighties, way before they got Sonic- Back then, the East Village was a small crowd and a right nest for the underground scene. The Sonic Youth people went their way and Max went his way. Lately on 14th, winter inside him, Max is looking at dusk at the tip of the pavement towards his feet, he does not remember the hopes he used to have in the early eighties, vaguely worrying some souvenirs, large limousine stops by his side smoked window smoothly rolling down Hey Max- his old SY friend is showing her face through- How you doing?
They chat a bit, window is rolling up limousine goes-
Max is looking at the tip of his shoes inside the mud or snow- Holy shit. She’s gone I’m still here.
Par :is
