Our Songs, Our Story, Our Love.

Chapter 1

Art Garfunkel pulled a hand nervously through his now trademark strawberry blonde coloured curly hair and looked at himself in the mirror. He proceeded to then straighten his thin, dark blue tie that hung loosely around his neck, smoothed down his white shirt and then smiled ruefully at himself. 
This was so utterly ludicrous, he instantly thought.
Why had he gone to so much effort and why was he also feeling so goddam nervous!
He wasn't really adept to wearing a tie at all, never mind the fact that he wasn't even planning on going anywhere!

Art Garfunkel was actually the host in his own home but somehow believed that his dinner guest would appreciate the gesture of him wearing a tie,  especially if he now also combed his rather unruly hair!
So taking a comb from a nearby shelf, he proceeded to flick it through the blonde curls that had so often, in the past been pretty much left to do their own thing.
He now stood back to take a good look at himself.
The years had been somewhat kind, not a grey hair in sight, although the once mop of tight curly tresses had thinned out somewhat. It quite saddened him to witness that there wasn't as much of it as there once was.
Then there was his face that housed a few more lines than he would have liked and a distinct chubby ness around his jaw line  that was never there before. This had presented itself with age, along with a paunch that had decided to settle around his midriff.
Artie had never been overweight, never had to worry about indulgences concerning over eating or drinking, the weight just didn't seem to go on him. He was lucky in that way, he had always been slim.
But looking down at his new shape he kind of liked it and nodded with satisfying self approval.
He actually thought he didn't look too bad considering everything life had somehow managed to throw at him. He was also confident too that his dinner companion would surely have little trouble in complimenting him.

Artie now smiled at his reflection but wondered for a moment, if his friend would even notice the extent of the efforts he had made on his behalf anyway.
He knew that this particular friend could be very indifferent.
He could also be cutting and slaving with his words which at times, in the past had been so hurtful and cruel that Artie wondered why the hell they had ever been friends in the first place! Alternatively though, his friend could also be the sweetest, kindest, funniest, loveliest and indeed the most generous guy ever to have walked this earth.
He wondered which one of them he would be entertaining tonight.

Moving out of the bathroom, he now entered the large, spacious, magnificent kitchen. The smell of cooking wafted its way into his nostrils and made him feel instantly hungry.
Art loved to cook. He frequently did it, just for amusement but it was nice to do it for someone else, someone who's approval really mattered.
In here, there was absolutely everything you could ever possibly desire in a fully equipped, functional and modern kitchen. The trappings of wealth had made everything easily affordable to him and the cupboards were never bare.
Yes, he was extremely wealthy with more money than he could ever hope to spend, yet it had all come at a price.

Art Garfunkel had always seeked out the approval of this one particular most charismatic of people and for most of his life that's how he'd been.  Never wanting to let the other half of their partnership down and had always remained mindful about his friends thoughts about everything. Art had moulded and shaped his life around this one particular person, often putting aside his own  personal happiness, until such a time when his confidence had grown to such proportions that he felt he could go off and do his own thing. When this did eventually happen though, it was met with the self destruct button and things between the two of them were never quite the same again.

Now turning towards the large, expensive oven, Artie now peered inside.  He was doing a roast, well it was a Sunday after all and decidedly cool outside as autumn was now descending with colder mornings and darker evenings.  He then glanced at the vast kitchen worktop and noticed yet another half drunk mug of coffee left to go cold. However, he picked it up and wandered over to the massive glass doors that led out onto a huge outdoor patio area overlooking New York's Central Park.
Opening the doors one handed, he casually stepped outside into the bright autumn sunshine. He shivered involuntary but not from the temperature. Out here was a real sun trap and he felt a warmth surrounding him as the sun's rays touched at his body.
No, the shiver had actually come from a far off distant memory of years gone by.
A memory of a vast audience, exceeding over 5 hundred thousand people as far as the eye could see, that had chanted, clapped and cheered in absolute unison as he and his friend, partner and one time confidant sung out the songs that had inspired a generation and indeed the world.