O’Grady sits in the armchair with the reading lamp on. The clock tells him it is 10:45, and the light from the window tells him it is morning. The armchair is new, bought just a few weeks ago, and so it puzzles him that the armrests are threadbare. They don’t make them like they used to. Continue reading Troubled Water
We entered the sandy arena three abreast and stopped in the center. We raised our trumpets, flags adorning the extra-long bells, and began to play. I have always gotten a thrill from the bright sound of tightly harmonized trumpets, especially when I have helped produce it. Halfway through, the two trumpeters on the outside turned to face opposite sides of the arena as we built to a climax.
When we were done, we marched out of the arena, through a hall and up some stairs to a small unadorned room, a closet really, where our instrument cases were kept and where we spent most of our time. We listened to the muffled noise from the arena as the knights were trotted out and attempts were made to whip the audience into a frenzy, waiting for our next cue. Continue reading With Fanfare, and Without