Category: Music
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Rocka
Clayton looked at the camera with an arrogant confidence. He grabbed his belt and stood, looking moody, down towards the cameraman. He swayed provocatively from side to side, smirking menacingly. The music started. “And… mime!” Declared the floor director. “Mime?” Scoffed Clayton. “I can’t mime… I don’t know the words”.
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Fingers’ Piano Concerto Number A in Z Flat
Music. Not one of my better subjects. My Inner Typist, Fingers, has other ideas, however, and sees himself as the veritable virtuoso. His fingers run across those virtual keys like nobody’s business. Granted, he plays like he types, but to my untrained ear, he creates sounds. A lot of them. Settle back, I plead with…
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The Petrification of Fingers
Fisrt he was arifad, he was ptfeierid. He spnet so mnay ngihts wderniong why it wnet so wnorg. So he tpyed snortg. And leerand to witre anlog. And he was bcak. Form Iennr Scape. He jsut tpyed wohtuit a sputid look upon his fcae. He dd’nit need to chnage the look, he d’ndit eevn hvae…
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The Rhythm Selection
Nancy walked confidently across the room, after speaking to the Gatekeeper, who provided his usual high level of security in the kiosk at the entrance. She sat at the bar, waiting to be served; Mimi and Tom were at the far end of the bar, and Denise was talking to Jenne on the stage, struggling,…
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Beating Those Ragtime Blues
Feet tap and glasses clank, tills ring and heads nod, fingers jive and necks bob, empty glasses become full and exchanged for monetary replacement, all in rhythm, out of rhythm and around the rhythm, as Esther Edith and her Ragtime Band play duelling music at differing speeds. The Six Sentence Café & Bistro, full to…
The Mansionic Perspective 