preview

Woodstock: A Fictional Narrative

Better Essays

Riley pushed his wet blonde hair out of his eyes and shivered while drawing his fleece blanket tighter around his body. The hairs on his arms and legs felt like they were standing straight up from the goose bumps that were forming on his skin. Even though it was the middle of August, it was unusually cold tonight. It had been raining on and off since five PM, so the grass had disintegrated into the slippery mud that was oozing between his toes and ruining his bamboo mat. At least he had been smart enough to bring it – others were sitting directly on the grass and ruining their jeans. People were walking around with brown stains on their backsides, making it look like they didn’t make it to the bathroom. Even though, his jeans weren’t dirty, …show more content…

It’s called Woodstock.” “- surely isn’t this important. It’s just music. And besides, the news is telling me how horrible it is – the rain, the crowds, the drugs…” Riley sighed heavily. His mom usually did not get on his nerves, but right now Riley was very close to losing his temper. “Mom, the news reporters are liars, they’re all just fasc – never mind that. It’s not just music Mom, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Think about Roger Dal –“ “I don’t care about Roger Daltrey!” Riley took a sharp breath – not caring about Roger Daltrey, his favorite singer of all time, felt like a slap in the face. “He’s got a wonky nose and needs to put on a shirt. Jesus Riley, you dragged me out to Monterey two years ago, you don’t need to see him again. You’re coming home right now. And I’m taking away your turntable.” “I don’t care,” Riley said barely above a whisper. “I won’t need music for weeks after this. Please, Mom.” “No Riley, you’re coming home. You’re grounded. Get in your van and drive back home right now. You’re sixteen and you don’t need to with all of those…those crazy, drugged up hippies. I’m not letting …show more content…

However, the Grateful Dead had been playing for nearly an hour and a half before the amps overloaded. But it was great. Riley was at a loss for words, and he and the boy next to him couldn’t stop talking about it. In fact, they had talked throughout Creedence Clearwater Revival’s entire set, but they immediately stopped their chatter when it came time to Janis Joplin. Riley focused all of his attention onto the “Queen of Psychedelic Soul”. To him, she was a queen – a very beautiful one at that. His camera was nearly out of film because of her – the boy next to him probably went insane from the click, click, clicking. Someone told him it was about 3 AM now. Riley and his new acquaintance had agreed on sleeping through the next set to save their energy for The Who, because coming from experience, Riley knew he had to be awake for

Get Access