It’s a while since I wrote without having something to say. For the last five days, I’ve recorded (probably in excessive detail, although missed by my daily readers after my website flopped on the second day) our activities. I’ve squeezed long diary entries into two hours of writing, which left me yearning for more time to write. Now, with time to spare, I find myself staring at the empty screen wondering what marvels I’ll pen. Yeah, that was funny for me too.

Try as he did, none of it was good enough.

The rock stars board the plane. They are old, and many years have passed since the sight of them made fans wail in adulation. Leo, the front man and founder of the band, still painted his hair black and wore it long, the ends mostly split, and the sheen oily. He wore large black sunglasses, each lens shaped like the body of a large, unlike bug. He grew a long, trimmed goatee on an otherwise scruffy face. These days, Leo and his band were scarcely recognized, and when a person did approach, they were older and used the chance meeting to reminisce, remembering the girl they dated when hearing Leo’s music, or how long ago they had last heard of Leo and his band.

He still walked around with an energy, an aura ha drew eyes to him beyond what he caused by his black dress and long hair.