|
|
I walked past that theatre on the way home tonight, and imagined the noise he'd make meeting someone at the stage door, looking for an autograph.
WHAT'S THAT? AN AUTOGRAPH? COME HERE MY BOY AND LET ME SIGN THAT CHAPBOOK FOR YOU!
Then, a pause, and a whispered request:
WHAT'S THAT? OH... ALL RIGHT...
GORDON'S ALIVE?!
Ack. Sorry for threadhijack. This is becoming an obsession that does me no good. |
|
|