(Untitled)
Paul's in the bar, plugging away at an old typewriter, the tacka-tacka-tacka holding a constant beat.
Suddenly, though, as a certain music reaches his ears, the sounds of the keys clacking turn into the gentle chords of a piano. The cigarette in the ashtray next to the typewriter casts hazes of smoke into the air.
Letting out a deep sigh, Paul closes ( Read more... )
Suddenly, though, as a certain music reaches his ears, the sounds of the keys clacking turn into the gentle chords of a piano. The cigarette in the ashtray next to the typewriter casts hazes of smoke into the air.
Letting out a deep sigh, Paul closes ( Read more... )
Comments 5
Alas for Avery, he's been heard! Well, it could be worse.
Surely.
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He seems somewhat nonplussed overall, however.
"I'm guessing the appropriate response here would be thanks? And as long as you're not thinking the worse of me, that's what it is."
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"Is it going around? The singing thing?"
He pauses.
"It's going around."
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