He misses the way he could see the music and feel it in his chest and down in his groin and those scars on his arm above the veins are reminders of what some would call mistakes while he just called them the Golden Days and these days are vague shadows of those times with him and his friends and the music and that’s really what he misses, the lights on stage and the strings below his fingers but all he can do is sigh and pick up the phone when it rings and hope he’ll dream something good tonight.