Lara Purvis

He was standing on the sidewalk beside his brother when I spotted him. They’d just returned from their nightly tour ritual: dinner and a visit to a comic book store. Johnston sucked on a cigarette, standing beside his brother, as fans flocked to him. Politely he shook hands and nodded hello, a bag of comic books protectively tucked under his arm. Dressed in grey – dark sweatpants and a light t-shirt, his bright white shoes and socks pulled up high – he couldn’t seem to get away from the hubbub fast enough as he hurried downstairs. I followed closely, thanking the musical gods for their kindness.