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A random high school story
In my high school there was this guy who had shoulder-length black curly hair, very pale skin, and wore a lot of black trench coats and black t-shirts with obscure record label logos. He wrote a lot of plays and poetry. His nickname, and pen name, was "Death Waits." People routinely called him Death. I was in several drama classes with him. For a brief period I played drums with his band, The Pretention Mounts.
Anyways, towards the end of my Grade 12 year, or maybe it was Grade 13, we got to talking, and found out we both liked to play tennis. So a few times that summer, I went over to his house and we'd play tennis. He lived in a very nice neighborhood (GWNC: Forest Hills), in a very bright, clean house. His mom was a completely normal Toronto mom, and he wore normal tennis clothes when we played. He was pretty good too.
My life is poorer for not having people like Death around.
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