As I sit and listen to my friend play the guitar, in my fuzzy state of mind, I'm reminded of a time long ago. His fingers strum and play a tune I don't know... but that's mainly because he makes it up as he goes. We've found solace with each other because we can do such things in each other's company. I can write. He can play... together we'd make for a pretty cool couple of nomadic gypsies.

The whiskey warms my throat, and his tune warms my heart. This is a good thing, because the night is cold and the shed we sit in doesn't insulate us very well from the chill of the night air. We tried starting a fire, but it didn't work too well, and I'd be dead if we burned the place down. So we're left to the warmth of our friendship and the alcohol in our tummies.

The record player has stopped. Yes, we've shunned the modern sound of compact discs and have opted for the sounds of the 60's as it comes through like static from old and dusty 33's. A single candle and a lamp from the 70's lights the space. If it weren't for my laptop and my blackberry, we could be in a picture from decades ago.

We spend hours discussing nothing of real importance except our friendship... and it's times like this when I wouldn't want to be any other place in the world. Well... maybe someplace warmer... but can I keep the same company and the same music?