Free Featherless Bipeds by Richard Scarsbrook Page B

into synch.
    â€œWe’re almost back at my place,” Zoe finally says. “What was it that you wanted to talk to me about, anyway?”
    Oh, right. That. Like it matters now.
    â€œJimmy T, Lola, Akim and Tristan want me to take a year off from university to play in the band full time.”
    â€œHmm. That’s a tough one,” she says.“On one hand, your parents will freak out if you quit school, especially your dad, I’ll bet.”
    â€œIt would only be for a year,” I say.
    â€œYeah,” she says, “but statistics show that most students who plan on putting off school for a year never go back. And, since you’ve already lost a year because of your injury, well . . . ”
    â€œI guess the responsible thing to do is to go back to university next year,” I say.
    We stop in front of the entrance to her apartment building.
    â€œOn the other hand, though,” she says, with a sparkle in her eyes, “You do look kind of sexy up there on stage behind those drums.”
    â€œI do?”
    I lean towards her to kiss her. She hovers in front of me for a moment, and her eyes close slightly. Then she takes a step away from me, toward the building.
    â€œSee you later, Dak,” she says, “Thanks for dinner.”
    â€œCall me if you come to Faireville over the summer, okay?” I say, trying to sound as cool and unaffected as possible.
    â€œI will,” she says, “ if I come back to Faireville.” She disappears inside the building.
    A streetlight buzzes and crackles to life above my head. I stand under its flickering glow for a moment, then turn and begin to walk away. Behind me, there is the sound of a window sliding open. I spin around.
    â€œHey, Dak, listen,” Zoe calls down to me through the open second-floor window. “All any of us can do is to follow our hearts. If we do that, I think we’ll eventually end up where we belong.”
    One by one, up and down the sidewalk, other streetlights begin humming with light.
    â€œGoodnight, Zoe,” I say.
    â€œGoodnight, Dak.” She recedes into her apartment, leaving the window open.
    I spend the rest of the night wandering the city alone, passing under streetlight after streetlight, trying to imagine how I will navigate myself to the right future from here.

Wander
    Lyrics — D. Sifter, Music — A. Ganges, T. Low, D. Sifter
(From the album Socrates Kicks Ass! recorded by The Featherless Bipeds)
    I have this dream of snaking roads
    And freeway metaphors
    Kind of like those TV ads
    For cars I can’t afford
    It draws me out into the dusk
    In search of substitutes
    Into the shadows of opaque towers
    Past fountains of other mens’ youths
    I walk downtown and have myself
    A drink from a frosted glass
    Park myself by a windowsill
    And watch the statues pass
    Listened to a street band play
    You really should come see ’em
    Toss a quarter in their jar
    It’s all I have to give ’em
    Watch the spirits hurling fire
    Hear wind in wires ring
    Taillights streak across the bridge
    Missing everything

L OST A ND F OUND
    I love this beach. I love the tentative trickling sound of the current against the shore on still nights such as this one, and the way the smoky light of the lighthouse swings overhead like a blade through the haze of humid air. I love the cool feel of the sand as it half-absorbs each footstep I take, and the hollow, gurgling sound of distant boat motors, and the way I can stop in my tracks here and be aware, for what seems like the first time ever, of the sound of my own breathing and the rising rhythm of my heartbeat. I love the crackle of smooth marble-coloured pebbles and the clip-clip-clip-pluck sound of a thrown stone skipping across the water. But none of these loves are the reason I have come to this place.
    I am here because Zoe is here.
    Of course the other guy is here as well. The companion of the moment. The one who would also have her if he