"We need to talk"
He threw the phone against the wall. While getting dressed, he tried to remember this oh so familiar voice. The last time he could think of was before Pink moved off to London with two other band members to start a career. He remembered the what the old man said before he left. "You're gonna go far." What in the hell could he want to talk about now.
Leaving out of the apartment around 7a.m. he noticed a crowd of people huddled outside the 24 hour coffee shop. He was really beginning to lose faith in humanity. He assumed that they didn't know what to do. But then again, we know the saying about assumptions. He decided not to interact.
Looking forward now, there was a broken-down bus. Pink didn't think to much of it. He figured that it would be fixed, especially since there was no traffic at this time any way.
Pink walked off, humming a tune he hadn't played since he recorded it 20 years ago. He approached his destination with a 10 minute walk. It was the orphanage where he went to school. The church connected to it was where he thought the bastard would be. He entered. No one was there.
The church itself hadn't changed at all since Pink left the school. The wood floor made as much noise as possible, and the stained glass windows had yet to be cleaned. Being dark, the only visible opening was the door to the offices. That is where Pink strolled off to.
He came up to a door where he Pink could see a light. This was it. On the outside, it read Father Floyd. Pink Knocked.
Father Floyd didn't bother getting up, just saying "Come in here dear boy".
Pink opened the door slowly, to a sight most wouldn't expect. Pink, whose anger bulged out of his mouth, asked, "What in the hell do you want ...dad?"
Father Floyd offered him a cigar. Pink took it without thinking. "I told you you were gonna go far." Father Floyd turned around and turned up the radio. Another brick in the wall, pt 2 was playing on WTF radio. "Did you write this song about me? Because I feel like it is about my ways of strict education are mentioned. I still don't see how you could have any pudding without eating your meat"
"Fuck you dad. I hate this song anyway. I hate all of my music."
"Well the public doesn't. Your songs have survived the test of time. You have revolutionized music today."
"I don't give a shit. The public doesn't understand that we did it for passion. They only think we did it for the money."
The conversation continued for another hour. It was around 9, and Father Floyd had to get ready for another day of teaching.
Pink left more pissed off than ever. Stepping out of the church door, he saw that cars were bumper to bumper. Looking off in the distance, the bus was still broken, and he saw the driver and a stranger in an argument. He thought people had to much time on their hands. He lit up another cigarette as he walked back to the apartment.
