https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/gothic-sunrise-jimmy-boom-semtex/1120007399?ean=2940164996208
Denise drank her Snakebite and looked
forward to her next one courtesy of Rolo. They chatted for a few minutes,
making small talk on business, who could win the battle of the bands (Denise
wanted Gothic Sunrise to win as she loved Katie Kat and her sexy body. Oh and
the music too! Rolo wanted their arch rivals the Supersonic Snails led by the
demure Angie the Witch to win) and life. No one looked at the fat man with the
hooker wedged in next to him on the couch. Many other strange people graced the
pub giving a feast for hungry eyes. Denise finished her drink and nodded at
Rolo to go and get her another. He agreed and he struggled to get up off the
seat, giving Denise a breathing space. She laughed at the thought of being
squashed by Rolo; of all the places to sit she chose this one. Rolo paid for
the drinks with two unfired 9mm bullets and returned to Denise with the drinks.
Across the alternative quarter Goths were
still working before rushing home to get ready for this heady event. Not
everyone was lucky enough to have the day off or to finish work early. A
definite buzz was in the air, the main street was filling up with Goths milling
around waiting for their friends and deciding where to drink first. Some of the
outfits they wore were simply stunning, a real labour of love.
The band venue was getting ready, in Gothic
Night the bands were unloading equipment, checking lyric sheets, tuning musical
equipment. The first band was setting up their equipment. This was Scarlet
Onions, a small three piece from a village just west of Renford. They made one
hell of a noise during rehearsal with their fast aggressive songs. They wouldn’t
win any prizes, being a new inexperienced outfit but had youth, enthusiasm and
loved what they were doing. Compared to the old hands who had years of
experience, they were minnows in a pond of really big fish. The main bands were
more organised and took their time to get ready. Their energy would be apparent
later in their music. For everyone here today this was the reason to be alive –
gothic music in all its many forms and sounds.
Sandra finished her artwork that she had
been commissioned to do. It was a piece in oils of a landscape under turbulent
grey clouds measuring four by three feet. Six weeks of solid painstaking work
and delicate detail, a real work of passion that she loved doing. She looked at
the painting that was now complete taking in the wild scene it portrayed
remembering so long ago when she had walked over that very spot with her
husband on a stormy day. It was so long ago; she sighed and shut her eyes
remembering. Why was it that her dead husband’s face was becoming more
indistinct as time went on? She struggled to remember his face. Opening her
eyes she withdrew a small purple velvet wallet and hurriedly took out his
photo. Sandra smiled as she looked at his happy features. His was a face of
youthful invigoration at the beginning of life that was wickedly stolen by this
evil disease. She hated cancer. Putting the photo away Sandra left her
completed artwork and started to get ready.
She didn’t know what to wear. This thought
played in the back of her mind since the morning, niggling away and annoying
her. She went to her antique ornate oak wardrobe and opened it and looked at
her stunning gothic outfits. Fuck it! She would wear her wedding dress she wore
when she married her young precious husband not two years ago. Sandra gently
ran her fingers through the delicate white fabric, remembering. And smiled. She
had been so happy and now? Now she was all alone, a widow at twenty-four years
of age. So young and still grieving over her indescribable loss but she
promised herself she wouldn’t cry, no not on this gothic music day. She would
weep twice as much tomorrow, like she did every other day of her young wounded
life. This thought made her speak aloud, “I miss you my love. My pain is so
much. It’s so unfair how you were taken away from me. I know that you’re around
me but my longing to be with you is immense. If I didn’t have your love in my
heart and my art I’d kill myself right now. But you wouldn’t want that. I
remember your last words to me before cancer stole you from me…”
The first band was due to come on stage in
ten minutes. The club was filling up with people wanting to get a good seat.
Jason and Craig each bought three drinks and sat at a small round table. They
quietly discussed the business of trading coins and music. Jason wore an old
All About Eve 1989 tour t-shirt that was in surprisingly good condition. He
only wore it to gigs and on special occasions. It matched his black Levi jeans
and custom made cowboy boots. Craig had a long black leather jacket on, black
combat trousers, a black denim shirt and old German combat boots, backed up
with lots of silver and amber jewellery. Both looked up and saw Rolo and Denise
walk into the bar, wave greetings they returned and continued their
conversation.
Time ticked by, more people entered the club
and bought drinks. Those inside got more drunk on a variety of wicked cocktails
made of dubious dark ingredients. With names like Mary’s Nipple, God’s Armpit,
Satan’s Testicle and Up the Army, these drinks were both alcoholically strong
and wickedly controversial but the Goths didn’t care, they loved it.
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