“ We smoked it.” Max chortled, “Unless you got more on you.”
Max knew he didn’t. They always knew who had what on them- how much money, what kind of drugs, things of that nature.
“When? We didn’t… Oh, yeah… No, that was yesterday.” Peter couldn’t remember smoking the last joint. He had to find it. He tore off his coat, pulled off his sweater…
“After I got that falafel on Sixth St. We smoked in that alley next to that new tattoo shop.” Max informed the now half naked Peter.
Peter stopped his search. “Oh, yeah!” Relieved he was not losing his mind, he started to pick up his clothes and began to dress.
“So you want me to walk you home, or you want to come my way.” Peter looked closely at his friend for an answer, then his eyes diverted.
“Peter…Peter… Hey, stony.” Max wondered what it was this time.
Peter seemed miles away, his eyes not focused on anything in particular, his head cocked at an angle, he seemed to be listening to something.
“What is it man?” Max’s curiosity got the better of him.
“Don’t you here it? Listen, that sound- I’ve been hearing it for a while now.”
Max interrupted, “So, you’ve been hearing this sound all night and just decided to let me in on it?”
“No. Not like that. I’ve heard it every so often for the last month or so. Don’t you hear it?”
Max put his ear to the wind trying to concentrate on listening- half wondering what he was listening for.
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