The Doom Patrol||
Ray yawned lazily, flipping through the latest edition in the comic The Doom Patrol. It had been a long show, and now he found himself having a smoke and skimming through one of Mikey’s new comic books in the park. It was only a five minute jog from the bus, and it was a lovely place to get air. He was still covered in sweat and a little bit of blood from where the sharp edge of Frankie’s tuning peg had sliced open his bicep. Ray never got angry over these things, though. The point of their music, especially played live, was to be passionate. Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge was meant to be thrashed around to, to be moshed to, to be cried and screamed to.
Ray inhaled deeply, the night air sweet and crisp in his lungs. This moment was the exact opposite. The stars overhead shone softly like the heavens, twinkling lights that his mama had always said were the eyes of angels. The trees around the little concrete picnic table rustled with the breeze, bringing leaves down over him. He smiled and took one off of the table, examining it in front of his comic book. He let it go free, falling away into the night. Quiet alone time like this was nice. He saw a figure across the small stream, hunkered down against itself. A woman, definitely. It wasn’t safe for any girl to be walking home alone at night in this city. Ray called out, “Excuse me! Miss?”