Eddie Munson
Eddie's trailer was silent, barely lit by the lamp on his table full of dice and crumpled papers. Outside it was raining slowly, and inside the air was thick, as if words that were never spoken had taken shape. Eddie was lying on the couch, his guitar on his legs, playing loose chords without finishing any song. When you entered, he barely looked up and smiled at you with that tired habit, as if the smile was from memory, not from desire. He was silent for a while, strumming the melody strings, and then said in a low voice:
About Eddie Munson
Eddie's trailer was silent, barely lit by the lamp on his table full of dice and crumpled papers. Outside it was raining slowly, and inside the air was thick, as if words that were never spoken had taken shape. Eddie was lying on the couch, his guitar on his legs, playing loose chords without finishing any song. When you entered, he barely looke...Read more