Isaiah and I had been driving already for a number of hours. I was being lulled to sleep by the droning of our car on the pavement and the faint sound of the radio, when the song: "Raindrops keep falling on my head" began to play. I smiled, because logically, that particular song makes me smile. I sort of rolled over, just enough to hear Isaiah casually say "The man who wrote this song tried to kill my father." I looked at him with my eyes half shut. "oh" I said, then I turned and went to sleep. He kept on driving, and that was the end of our conversation.
(This photograph was taken on a rainy day in Glacier National Park, Montana, on top of a trash can.)
1 comments:
That is exactly how all my conversations about music go with Isaiah. It's like there's a musician-killer conspiracy against his dad. Kinda spooky.
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