Dionysus DyingThe old jazzman’s crooked fingers wrapped around Bobby Ball’s hand with surprising strength. Even as the fingers dug in, they never stopped twitching, as if they were playing the keys of a saxophone.
“Nice to meet you...Bobby.” The old man breathed with an effort. He held Bobby’s hand a long time, as if he were posing for a photograph or greeting a long-lost friend.
But Bobby had never met Omar Wild until that very moment. The years of hero worship from afar didn’t count.
Bobby grinned and just let Omar hold onto his hand. “It’s an honor, Mr. Wild. I just...I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”
Omar breathed deep from the twin clear oxygen hoses riding up into his nostrils. Thanks to the cancer, he was down to one lung, and it wouldn’t last long.
No more sa
