the ordinary glory of a real love

I’d liked Graham from the moment I saw him. He was cool. Everyone doing art was cool, but Graham was the coolest and he floated around college. He was listening to the Pixies a lot and he had their lyrics pinned up on his walls. He was really good at guitar. He could play anything, even the Smiths. I still find those guitar parts tricky. He was in a few bands. One was called Idle Vice. The songs were mainly about beer, but some were about vodka. He played the drums as well, but there were no drums around so he played on his knees, with air cymbals. There was a piano in the hall and we used to sing ‘Blue Moon’ a lot. Graham only knew how to play ‘October’ by U2 on the piano, so we sang that a lot as well. We were friends. We were interested in each other’s record collections and we both had guitars; we connected through music, but it went beyond that. We were happy in each other’s company just waiting for a bus or sharing a packet of cigarettes and making up words. I liked him because he was instantly brilliantly artistic, but vulnerable; strikingly stylish, but quite awkwardly shy. Why he liked me, I don’t know. Maybe it was mainly because I liked him. Still, when you do know exactly why someone likes you, that’s not really a friend. That’s a fan.

beatles as seasons????