Squire’s Isle Created by Geonn Cannon

Hand Me Down | Radiation Canary


A missing scene from The Rise and Fall of Radiation Canary, set between the Christmas and Valentine’s Day of Karen and Lana’s romantic relationship. There’s a song Lana is dying to write, but she needs Karen to give her the words.

Her first thought: cold. Karen had lived in Seattle all her life, and she was used to chilly winters, but this was a whole different beast of coldness. She had tucked herself deep into the blankets in her sleep but even that wasn’t enough. She squeezed her eyes shut even tighter, wrinkled her nose, and hunched her shoulders as her brain woke up enough to tell her why she was so cold. They were in Calgary, Alberta, Canada, in January. They were playing a show at the Palace Theatre tomorrow night. The bus arrived at one in the morning, and she vaguely remembered waking up on the bus, then sitting in the lobby, and following Lana down a very quiet and earth-toned hallway to their room.

Their room, she realized. It was still a strange concept. Codie and Nessa were also sharing a room across the hall, but she was actually ‘sharing the room’ with Lana.

Karen realized how cocooned she was in the blanket. “Do you have enough blankets?” she asked. “Lana?” She looked over her shoulder and saw the mattress beside her was empty. “Lana?” She sat up, keeping the blanket wrapped around her as much as she could. The room was so unbearably cold that she wondered if the hotel had turned the heat on at all. Lana wasn’t in the room and the bathroom light was off.

After debating for close to a minute, Karen threw the blankets off and lunged for her bags. She had a huge down jacket that reached all the way to her knees – thanks, Dad – and she managed to dig it out in record time. She pulled it on, did up the buttons, and slipped her bare feet into her shoes. She grunted, trembled, and shuffled out of the room in search of Lana.

The hallway carpet was red with flecks of gold, and the walls were wood paneling. It was nice, it made her feel like she was really in a cabin, but at the moment she would have traded it all for a furnace that worked. To her right, there was a security door which looked out onto an empty lot. A security light cast everything in an unnatural silver light that made the world look artificial. The lobby was to her left, and it made more sense for Lana to have gone there.

“It doesn’t make any sense for her to go anywhere,” Karen muttered as she started walking. She heard vague signs of life from the rooms she passed: snoring, muffled conversation, television, music. “Nice warm bed to share with your nice warm girlfriend, who goes wandering out into the tundra?”

The lobby was large enough to have a seating area with three couches and two armchairs arranged around a trio of tables. Lana was sitting in the center of one couch with her legs crossed in front of her, a notebook open on her lap. She was wearing a coat over her pajamas but her feet were bare. She had on headphones and her head rocked from side to side with the beat of whatever she was listening to. Karen glanced at the unattended front desk as she crossed the space.

Lana looked up just before Karen reached her. She smiled and reached up to push her headphones off her ears. Karen could hear enough of the tinny music to recognize it as ‘Land Among the Stars.’

“Hey, you should be in bed.” Despite the fact they were alone, she kept her voice just above a whisper.

Karen matched her volume. “That’s my line. What are you doing out here?”

“Couldn’t sleep. I didn’t want to disturb you. And you kept stealing the blankets, so I decided to just let you have them all.”


“Don’t be. I wanted you to be warm.”

Karen did warm a bit at that. “What are you doing out here?” she asked again. “It’s… it’s…” She realized she didn’t know what time it was and looked around for a clock.

“Four-oh-two,” Lana said. “I figured I could nap later. Before soundcheck.”

Karen climbed onto the couch next to her, snuggling close. “I thought we were going to ‘hang out’ before soundcheck…” She angled her head and leaned in to nibble Lana’s neck.

Lana grinned and squirmed. “We can still do that.” She reached out and rubbed Karen’s leg through her pajamas. “I’m just anxious for the show, that’s all. Plus I’m re-listening to our stuff to make sure I know all the lyrics. I don’t want a repeat of what happened in Vancouver.”

“That was fine,” Karen said. “You covered well. Everyone thought it was funny. And besides, you don’t go to a concert to hear pitch-perfect versions of a song you can hear on the radio. You go to hear it live, flaws and all.” The right headphone were sitting just behind Lana’s ear, her hair tangled in it, and Karen deftly smoothed it out with her fingers.

Lana twisted her lips. “I was embarrassed, though.”

“I know.” She kissed Lana’s earlobe and realized something. “I hope you don’t think the girls and I were making fun of you.”

“No, you made it less awkward. You made it part of the show. I appreciated that. I just want to make sure it doesn’t happen again, that’s all.”

Karen said, “Okay.” She looked at the notebook in Lana’s lap. The page was covered with blocks of text in sloppy handwriting which she didn’t bother trying to decipher. “What’s that?”

“Just messing around with some lyrics for the intervention album. Well, not lyrics. But… if you want to tell a story with the album, I thought we might need sort of a road map to follow. Like, characters and situations.”

“Are you writing a story?” Karen grinned.

“Kind of. Maybe. It’s not anything like a… a book story or anything like that.” She folded the page over and held it up. “It’s just like a biography of the guy we’re going to be singing about. Who is important to him, what his failures are. I’m never going to let anyone read it.”

“Can I read it?”

Lana said, “I… yeah. Yeah, sure. I mean, you’ll be writing most of the… of course you can read it. But it’s a little personal.” She stared down at the page. “I based a lot of it on my father.”

“I thought you didn’t know your father.”

“I don’t. Just what mom and her friends told me, or what they said when they thought I wasn’t listening. I figure we want the guy in the album to have made mistakes. We want everyone in his life to turn against him. Well, the guy who spawned me definitely ticks all those boxes.”

Karen stroked Lana’s hair. “Will you be okay using that for the album?”

“Mm-hmm.” She turned and pressed her lips to Karen’s chin, then her cheek. “Babe, you’re freezing. You should have stayed in bed.”

“I wanted to find you.” She moved closer. “But now you can warm me up.”

Lana laughed. “Yeah? Right here?” Her hand moved from where it had been resting against her hip, traversing her thigh before sliding higher between her legs.

Karen tensed, her eyes wide but not blocking Lana’s attack. “What, not here…”

“Why not here?”

Lana’s voice had dropped even lower, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Karen moved her arm to lay it across Lana’s shoulders. Their foreheads were almost touching when Lana’s hand reached the crotch of Karen’s pajama pants. They were baggy, but not baggy enough to prevent the goal from being achieved. Karen gasped a laugh and looked guiltily toward the front desk.

“No one’s been around since I came out here,” Lana said.

“Someone could come in at any second.” There was no conviction in her argument. She closed her eyes and tightened her fingers on Lana’s shoulder. “Oh, God…”

Lana said, “Don’t you like that? Just a little? Someone could walk in at any second…”

Karen laughed nervously.

“You walked in on me once. Backstage… my threesome…”

“I remember…”

Lana kissed Karen’s neck. “Did it turn you on?”

Karen blushed deeper. “Yeah.”

“Good.” She nipped Karen’s earlobe.

Karen was practically on Lana’s lap, her breathing ragging. Lana’s arm was twisted at an odd and surely uncomfortable angle. “Let’s go back to the room,” Karen said. “We can do this properly.”

“One thing you have to learn if you’re going to be with me, K,” Lana said, “there’s no such thing as proper. There’s just how you get it done.”

“Well, you’re about to get it done…”


Karen grunted an affirmation and leaned harder on Lana, trying to look like she was huddling up for warmth. She shuddered and kept her eyes closed so she wouldn’t have to see if anyone wandered in. There was no stopping it now and she didn’t want embarrassment to overwhelm any other feelings. She whispered Lana’s name and moved her hips up, toes curling, her hand tight on Lana’s shoulder.

“Good girl,” Lana whispered. “That’s a good girl.”

“You’re not good at all,” Karen growled, but kissed Lana’s cheek and then her lips. Lana withdrew her hand from Karen’s bottoms, and Karen scooted back. She glanced around guiltily but confirmed the lobby was just as empty as it had been when she arrived. She thumped Lana’s shoulder. “And if you want me to thank you properly, you have to come back to the room.”

Lana said, “What exactly do you have in mind, Miss Everett?”

Karen raised an eyebrow and suggestively touched her tongue to the corner of her mouth. Lana’s grin widened.

“Well, you certainly drive a hard bargain…”

She kissed Karen’s lips and closed her notebook. Karen waited for Lana to gather her things and escorted her back to their room. Halfway there, Lana reached for Karen’s hand. Karen smiled, but was embarrassed by the smile. She felt like a middle-schooler with a dumb crush. She squeezed Lana’s hand.

“There is something you can help me with,” Lana said as Karen unlocked the door.

“That’s the plan,” Karen said. “Get in there and get your pants off.”

Lana chuckled as she hurried into the dark room. “Not that. I mean, yes, please. But I meant…” Karen shut the door, cutting off the light from the hallway. Lana reached for her in the dark and they kissed. “There’s a song I want to have on the next album. But I can’t… I can’t write it. I’ve tried a couple of times because I thought… mm…” They were kissing between sentences, moving slowly toward the bed. “I thought it was too personal for someone else to write. But I think it’s too personal for me.”

“What is it about? Sit.”

“My mother.”

Karen’s hands stopped on Lana’s waistband. “Did this just get awkward?”

“It’s fine, baby. Go ahead.” She pushed her pajamas off and sat on the edge of the bed. “It’s just that there’s a song I want to have, but I can’t write it. There’s a million things I need to say, you know, and it’s just… too much…”

“Okay,” Karen was kneeling in front of her, both hands on Lana’s inner thighs. Now that they were back in the room, the idea of being patient was unbearable. “Can we talk about this in a couple of minutes?”

Lana said, “Absolutely, yes.” She reclined on her elbows as Karen leaned in.

For a few minutes, they said nothing of consequence to anyone other than themselves. Karen thought about the other rooms she had passed and wondered if someone was quietly passing by now. She wondered if they could hear Lana’s gasps and moans, if they knew who she was rooming with and what was happening. She blushed, but she had to admit she was more than a little turned on at the thought.

When Lana came, Karen kissed her thighs and lifted her head. “I get it.”

“No, I got it,” Lana said breathlessly. Her hand was over her eyes.

“No, I mean… the thing you said about maybe getting caught. I get it.”

Lana grinned. “Oh. Cool.” She lifted the hand which wasn’t on her face, gave a thumbs-up. “Glad to enlighten you.”

Karen climbed up Lana’s body and kissed her. “Glad to know you got it, though.”

Lana laughed throatily. She put her arms around Karen, tightened her legs around Karen’s waist. “I always get it with you.” She kissed Karen’s bottom lip. “Mm. Tasty K.”

Karen rolled off of Lana to lie beside her. Lana rolled her head and kissed Karen’s cheek.

“You should use your fingers more.”


“When you go down on me,” Lana whispered, as if she had suddenly become shy. “You can use your fingers more. I love what you can do with your tongue, and you always get me there. Always. But I’m just saying if you wanted to… it’s good.”

Karen’s hand was resting on Lana’s stomach. She moved it lower. “Like how? Like…”

Lana’s eyes closed and she smiled. “Mm-hmm.”

“I’m still pretty new to this whole thing.” Karen moved her lips next to Lana’s ear. “Maybe you could show me what you mean.”

Lana lifted her hand to cover Karen’s. She shifted and brought one foot up onto the mattress. Karen watched Lana’s face, how her lips curled into a distracted smile. They worked together until the smile trembled and her eyebrows twisted together. Lana made soft, whimpering noises before biting down on her bottom lip and clenching her hand around Karen’s.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Lana gasped. “So… um… l-like that.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” She pecked Lana’s lips and watched her. She’d once heard that the mind was at its most vulnerable post-orgasm, matched only by near-sleep, so she decided to take advantage. “Lana?”


“Tell me about your song. The one you want to write for your mother.”

Lana’s eyes were still closed. “Oh. It’s too much.”

Karen brushed the hair away from Lana’s face. “You said. But, like, what do you want to say in the song? What’s the most important thing to get through.”

Lana took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Oh-h-h… I don’t know… we were poor. We were super poor. I was a brat.” Her lips slumped in a sleepy smile. “Don’t be shocked. I didn’t understand why Santa brought Nintendos for other kids but I got, like, hand-me-downs… Eventually I figured it out, you know, I… I realized she was gone all night because she was bagging groceries. She had a pink-and-white uniform. She hated it. But I barely remember her wearing anything else. She did that for me. ‘Cause no one else was going to help us, she sacrificed to give me a running start.”

Karen smiled. “She sounds like an amazing lady.”

“Yeah.” Lana was quiet for so long Karen assumed she had fallen asleep. Then, she said, “I look like her. Everyone said so, but I’ve seen pictures and I know it’s true. She gave me everything, even her looks, and then she made it… her… her purpose in life… to make my life as good as possible. She didn’t even want me. I mean. She didn’t plan for me. And I ruined everything she did have planned. So she just changed her plans for me. The only… hmm.”


“I don’t want to be thankful for how she died but we knew she was going to die for a long time. So I had a chance to… you know… think about everything. And I knew before she was gone how much she had done for me. So I thanked her.” Her voice had faded to almost a whisper. Karen could see tears gathering under her lashes. Lana cuddled closer to her. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

Karen kissed Lana’s hair. “Okay, baby. Get some sleep. I’m sorry.”

“I like talking about my mom,” Lana murmured against Karen’s shoulder. “My mom’s my favorite person…”

Karen smiled and stroked Lana’s hair until she was fully asleep.




Two days later, they were in an RV to Winnipeg. The bus had broken down and the RV was a last-minute solution that Karen actually preferred. It was like a portable hotel room. The drive was going to take up all of their daylight hours, so Nessa and Codie were looking at the map for places they could stop for food and sightseeing. Lana was at the front of the bus with the driver, her bare feet up on the dashboard and her guitar on her lap. She and the driver were singing a passable version of “Tubthumping” with their own mangled version of the chorus.

Karen had spent most of the drive in her bunk. Her knees were bent and she had a notebook open against her thighs. When Lana decided to give the driver a break and returned to the main sitting area, Karen tore out the page she’d been working on. She joined Lana at the flimsy plastic table which constituted a dining room.

“Hey, K,” Lana said as Karen slid onto the seat across from her. “What’s up?”

Karen handed Lana the paper. “I’ve been working on this.”

“What is it?” Lana picked it up and started to read. A subtle change came over her features. Her eyes skimmed across the first few lines and then ticked back up to meet Karen’s. “What… what is this?”

“I thought maybe it would help you put your thoughts in order.” She was twisting her pen between her hands. “It’s not finished at all. It’s just an idea.”

Lana was reading again. She brought one hand up to cover her mouth, and the other was shaking so badly that the paper began to wave. Karen watched with growing concern and tried to come up with an appropriate apology. Had she overstepped? Had she taken something private and turned it into something public? God, what if Lana didn’t even remember talking about her mother?


“This is my mother’s song,” Lana said, her voice quiet.

Karen said, “It doesn’t have to be. This could just help you find what you want to say…”

“No, Karen, I told you, I can’t write this. I’ve been trying since we were calling ourselves Little Cat Feet. This is the song I wanted to write. How did you do this?”

“I just… took the things you told me about your mom.”

Lana’s eyes were wet as she looked at the paper again. “This is my mother’s song,” she said again.

“Do you like it?” Karen asked.

Lana put the paper down, got out of the seat, and came around to Karen’s side of the table. She embraced her tightly.

“It’s perfect, Karen. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. There’s no music yet. I thought you could–”

Lana sniffled and nodded. “Yeah. I already have a melody in mind.” She twisted at the waist until she spotted Nessa and Codie at the back of the RV. “Nessa. I need to borrow you. This is going to be piano-heavy. I might not even play on it at all. Codie… we may have to do without drums so you can be next to me when I’m trying to sing this.”

Codie folded the map. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine.” Lana kissed Karen’s hair. “We’ve just got a lot of work to do on this new song.”

“You’re not thinking of playing it tonight, are you?” Karen asked.

“No. No, we n eed to make sure it’s perfect before we try playing it. But I want to get started as soon as possible.” She got up, but hesitated. “My mom’s name was Debra. When we get done on the song, I want to tell you more about her.”

“I’d like that.”

Lana bent down and kissed Karen, then went to join Nessa at the back of the RV. Codie came up front and took the seat Lana had just vacated.

“You wrote a song for Lana’s mom?”

“Yeah. You knew her, right?”

Codie shook her head. “She passed away before Lana and I became friends. But her mother is really special to her, Karen. You did a good thing, kiddo.”

Karen smiled and bumped Codie’s foot under the table, looking past her to see Lana conspiring with Nessa over the notebook page.




Lana spent the rest of the tour tweaking music for the song. Their last stop was Vancouver and, on the afternoon before the show, Karen found her standing onstage looking out over the sea of empty seats. The venue was an auditorium, almost sixty years old, and it reminded Karen of old theaters she’d seen in movies and TV. There were even thick velvet curtains and a sprawling balcony. Lana heard her approach and turned, smiled, then faced forward again.

“Standing here makes me feel huge and tiny at the same time.”

Karen hugged her from behind. “Do you want me to put that in the song? Maybe the last verse?”

“Yeah. I think it would be a nice way to end it.” She pressed back against Karen. “I was thinking about everything Mom sacrificed for me. And now look at me. I’m standing here getting ready to play music for hundreds of people. This is the sort of place she wanted me to end up. That’s why the song means so much to me. I think it’s almost done.”

“Really? We could do a rough version tonight.”

“No. I want to premiere it in Seattle.”

Karen smiled. “I think she’d have liked that.”

“I think she’d have liked you.” She twisted in Karen’s arms and kissed her. “Thank you for the song.”

“You’re welcome. I can’t wait to hear the finished product.”

“Your words and my music. It’s always been a winning combo.”

Karen smiled and kissed Lana again, then convinced her they should head backstage to find Nessa and Codie before the show started.




A few weeks after the tour, once the band was settled in again, Lana booked them a slot at a small bar near the University. It was part of her grand plan to give the song – officially titled ‘Hand Me Down’ – a proper debut. “It has to be as intimate as possible,” she’d told them. “No big theaters, no huge crowds. It has to be a place where my voice can reach the back wall even if I didn’t have a microphone.” She also orchestrated the music as if she was a conductor. “It will mostly be Nessa. I can’t sing this song without her music as a safety net.”

“You’ve got it,” Nessa promised, squeezing Lana’s hand.

Lana squeezed back and looked at Codie. “I need you, too. But not on the drums. I want this to just be Nessa and Karen’s strings. But you… I need you nearby. I might need you to grab my shoulder or hold my hand on the second verse.”

“I’ll be there,” Codie said.

Karen and Nessa would provide harmony, but only on the chorus and select parts of the verses. They would come in on words like fair, dreams, plan, and love to make it less obvious if (and when) Lana’s voice broke.

“We’re not going to perform this one live very often,” Lana told them before they went onstage. They were huddled together in the back room of the bar, near an industrial sink and a stack of blue plastic crates filled with empties. “We’ll do it tonight and on special occasions, but once we record it, don’t expect to see it in the rotation.”

“We understand,” Karen said.

Lana hugged her, then held out both arms so Codie and Nessa could join the embrace. When the hug ended, Lana kissed Karen’s lips and led her out into the bar. It was dark and it was only a short walk to the stage, but Karen still heard someone say, “Whoa, holy shit, is that…?” just as Lana stepped into the light. They took their positions to the sound of conversations dying out and bodies shifting on stools. Drums had been set up, but Codie took a standing position beside Karen and clasped her hands behind her back.

“Hey, everyone,” Lana said. “We once played this bar as Little Cat Feet, but these days we play under a different name.”

Someone whooped and Lana smiled. Karen was again amazed at how effortlessly Lana could command a stage, a crowd. She was wearing a Chrissie Hynde T-shirt with the sleeves rolled up onto her shoulders and low-slung black jeans. She looked like a damn movie star, a rock idol, someone who deserved to have every eye turned toward her. She picked up her guitar and slung the strap over her head.

“I don’t even need the guitar for this song,” Lana admitted, “but I feel more exposed without it. So, uh…” She cleared her throat. “This is a new song. It’s about a woman who, uh….” She cleared her throat again and looked down at her guitar. “It’s a song I’ve wanted to write for a long time, but once again I needed Karen to give me a voice. So I want to thank her for that. Um. This is called ‘Hand Me Down’. I hope you enjoy it.”

Nessa began playing a soft, gentle ballad. Lana wet her bottom lip, eyes closed, and waited for her cue. When it came, she opened her eyes and faced the crowd.


“I couldn’t give you a house but I made you a home

These rooms where you’re safe, the place you’re from

I didn’t know you were coming into my world

And I didn’t plan to fight every day for this little girl

But I’d never give you up now that you’re here

You’re the love of my life and I’m going to make that clear.”


Her voice trembled on the last word and Codie stepped forward. She put her hand on Lana’s shoulder, and Lana reached back and pulled Codie to her. Codie wrapped her in a hug and Lana smiled, though her eyes were still full when she moved to the next verse. Karen continued her part, eyes on Nessa so she wouldn’t get swept up in Lana’s emotion.


“Clean clothes and fresh sheets for your bed

New shoes and a roof over your head

There are so many things you want

I’d give you every one if I could

I can’t tell you life is fair when it just isn’t

And I can’t give you everything I know I should


This is what I can give you

It’s not much, it’s just all I have

You can have all my dreams

You can have every plan

I’m living my life for you now

I’m giving you all my hand-me-downs.”


Karen and Nessa played the final notes, and Lana sagged against Codie. The crowd applauded and a few people actually whistled. Lana thanked them with increasing volume, her smile widening as she swayed in Codie’s arms. “Thank you,” she said. “Thanks so much. Thank you.”

Chills spread from the base of Karen’s skull down her arms, and she had to grip her bow tightly to keep it from trembling. Nothing could compare to a theater full of fans singing along with her words or applauding at the end of a song, but there was also no magic quite like a small, appreciative crowd. Lana looked back and met Karen’s eye. She nodded once. Karen winked and blew her a kiss.

When the applause died down, Lana kissed Codie on the cheek and slipped free of her arms. “Okay, thank you. That’s going to be on our next album, so keep your eyes open for that. Now we’re going to play some songs you’ll actually recognize.”

Codie squeezed Lana’s shoulder once more before she went back to the drums. Lana turned away from the audience, ostensibly to adjust her guitar, but Karen saw her wipe quickly at her cheeks to rid them of any tears which may have fallen free. She faced forward again and gave a smile that certain places online had credited with helping them win Friday Night Auditions.

“Let’s get started.”




Lana hadn’t said where they were going, just woke Karen up and told her to get dressed. “It’s cold out, so layer up.” It was unseasonably warm so they stopped at Molly Moon’s to get ice cream – maple walnut for Karen, salted caramel for Lana. They drove into Pike/Pine, a hip neighborhood where tattoo parlors and dive bars kept the apartment buildings out of sight. Lana turned onto a side street and parked in the shade of the trees lining the sidewalk. Karen ate her ice cream and examined the street. Some windows were open to take advantage of the near-Spring temperatures, and the closest yard was littered with brightly-colored plastic toys and discarded bicycles.

“It’s Saturday,” she said. “Shouldn’t there be more kids?”

“There’s a big park just west of here,” Lana said. “It’s kept nice because it’s technically part of Capitol Hill, but the lower-rent kids get to enjoy it, too.”

Karen looked at her.

Lana licked her spoon clean before she spoke again. “That’s where I spent most Saturdays, anyway.”

Karen looked at the street again with a new appreciation. It might have been low-rent, but it was lovely. The building across from them looked like it had a relatively new coat of paint. Someone nearby was cooking and the food smell wafted out over the courtyard. She could hear the play-by-play of a game being announced over a radio or TV.


Lana pointed with her spoon. The building was pale yellow, with a crumbling concrete step leading to a door that was propped open by a cinder block.

“Ground floor,” she said. “Those two windows, with the white curtains. The first window is the living room, where Mom slept, and the other was my bedroom. We only had the one bedroom because a second bedroom was an extra two hundred bucks a month. A Saturday like this, with nice weather, I would have been out the door around seven o’clock.” She smiled. “You couldn’t even get me out of bed by seven if it was a school day. I’d go to the pool, or hanging out in the park, or going to my…” She twisted and pointed to a brown building. “My friend Jamie’s house. Back there. She had a Sega.”

Karen smiled. “It sounds like an amazing childhood.”

“Mm-hmm. And the whole time I was doing that, Mom was getting up at five o’clock every day. She would drive to the supermarket and put in ten hours just to be sure she had enough to give me an allowance or buy me whatever I begged to have for dinner. I don’t know how you did it, K. I don’t know how you wrote about what it was like without ever meeting her.”

“Well, maybe she was guiding me a little bit.”

Lana smiled. She reached over and rested her hand on Karen’s knee. “Whatever happens to us or the band, you’ll always be the person who wrote my mother’s song for me. I want you to know that. I want you to… really know what that means to me. Even if we break up, even if we become Lennon and McCartney and never speak to each other again, I’ll never not love you, Karen.”

Karen covered Lana’s hand with her own. “I’ll never not love you, Lana.”

“Hurry up and finish your ice cream,” Lana said. “We can walk to the park and I can show you where I got my first kiss.”

Karen raised an eyebrow and took another bite of her ice cream, eager for the next leg on the tour of Lana Kent’s childhood. It was a great way to spend a Saturday and, if she kept her eyes open, it might even inspire another song.

2 Responses to “Hand Me Down | Radiation Canary”

  • Thanx for ‘hand me down’, it’s fitting that it was posted on my mom’s birthday

  • Oh, wow, that’s a lovely coincidence! <3

Morgan (Webmaster) on April 8th, 2018 at 11:34 pm