The Heist

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The Heist (193 Words)

There’s something about a market in the early morning. Very little traffic, few passersby. The smell of humidity under the slow-rising sun.

Pam glanced at her watch. It was a quarter past six in the morning. Soon they would be here.

“What’s taking them so long?”

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Music, Sort of. A Synthetic Solution.

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Wallie and I had to reblog this… the imp has a weakness for good music!

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While I’m waiting for “The Three Sisters” to come out tomorrow . . .

Back in 1972, on their first album after CSNY split, Graham Nash knocked off a little ditty called “Blacknotes,” released on the album Graham Nash David Crosby. At only 58 seconds, the tune barely had time to do anything other than suggest that you:

Sit yourself down at the piano, just about in the middle.

Put all your fingers on the black notes, anywhere you want to.

Write a song, sing along, and understand that you can play.

Or words to that effect, accompanied by Nash doing a bit of keyboard mashing, presumably only on the black notes. You can find the song on YouTube.

That song doesn’t show off Nash’s talent particularly, and that’s his point. I suppose some folks eventually begin to realize that listening to music is only half the fun. It’s…

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Your Reputation Precedes You

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On the theme of “Reservation,” why not write about one of the greatest social enigmas of all–getting to know a stranger? And what if that stranger just happened to be the world’s most savage literary critic, Edgar Allan Poe? Wallie and I decided to explore the reservations between strangers (and not-quite strangers) meeting for the first time.

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There is a superstition amongst players that a performance of Macbeth brings ill luck on the company. We had just given a performance that I remember, when I first met him. It was a poor season and perhaps we knew we were not at our best, but we gave it what we could on tight, empty bellies, breathing cold air through cold noses and making fine gestures with numb hands. The winter was bitter and had worked itself into our bones. But it was not the play nor the weather that troubled us. It was a villain with a pen, Mr. Edgar Allan Poe.

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Pirates Ahoy!

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This brief post is a warm salute to that anomaly among pirate captains, Jack Sparrow.  Wallie and I saw the new film and we simply do not know where all those bad reviews come from! This is, at any rate, a brief sketch with words to that rare fellow what makes pirating a vocation, vacation, and an explosion.

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He was not, perhaps, prepossessing: diminutive and small-boned: but there was something striking in his easy, careless posture as he leaned at the ship’s rail, and there was something of the captain in the way his dark eyes rested on the open sea. Continue reading

How to Write Muggles Part 1

In the wizarding world of Harry Potter, we are always told to value muggles but they do not seem to occupy a prominent role in proving themselves valuable. The following sketch is the beginning of a two-part investigation into whether or not muggles can actually stand in a room full of wizards.

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Inside stepped two common folk.

They were certainly common.

The wife was a little, light thing, black-haired and fair. She was evidently a stranger to that home. She shrank close against her husband and held so tightly to his arm that her knuckles were white. He held her close in turn, as he could. She was more behind than beside him. It wasn’t fear for herself that provoked her; they could all see she was heavily pregnant.

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