“I am digging new plot weeds. Please may you call when it is one pm?” Dance requests.
“Sure,” Emma says, glancing up from her laptop, and blinking dry eyes.
He’s wearing the oldest of his cheap thrift store sweatpants, which …
“Does our Miss Emma believe in fate?” Dance asks.
Emma rubs her eyes, looks up from the stack of grant application paperwork. “What are you talking about?”
“Does Miss Emma ever pray for good luck, as some of the ladies …
“Whoa, Navarre, how did that grab you!”
Drin looks up and his automatic politician’s smile becomes genuine. “You were absolutely right, Engerman, it’s a very nice little orchestra. I’ve got to thank you for the ticket– a truly delightful evening!”…
“Stress fractures,” Bud Innes pronounces. His twinkling eyes belie the solemn portentousness of the words.
“Oh?” Drin says encouragingly.
“All these blow-ups and upsets, small wars… They keep the greater mass from self-destructing, you understand. The First Violist was expecting …
Drin finds himself staring at a pair of backsides. One man has long curly golden hair; the other’s is long, straight, and black.
Dance hands Robert a plate. “Go make deadly smile mojo. Take food so people don’t start feeling …
There’s half-heard sound, coming out of the backstage hallway. It raises Drin’s hackles and sends adrenalin shrilling through his bloodstream, a vocalization of pain and fright that brings him to his feet before his conscious mind even understands what it …
Drin makes up his mind finally when he sees something perfectly ordinary. Up in the little choir room, he sees Dance has propped up his legs on a second chair, slouching back with his arms folded, chin on his chest, …
Rain is coming. The humidity sends the odor of sage gusting into the crowded club, drafting off the ravines above the big parking lot. Chaparral oils mix with skunk and tar. Perfumes and smokes cling on the sweaty clothes of …
It’s the music, or two whiskies on an empty stomach, or unrequited desire, but he can’t settle. He returns from the can to find the place emptying rapidly. He knows how much Dance can’t afford to lose the jacket he’s …
The city’s lights are laid out in waves, heaving over the small hills and splashing down into the lowlands. Drin never gets tired of standing out on his balcony in the cool updraft from the ravines and canyons, gazing at …