Jack Vettriano Winter Light and LavenderJack Vettriano Welcome To My WorldJack Vettriano We Can't Tell Right from Wrong
The old music shop was right up against the University, after all, and magic did leak out despite what the wizards always said about the talking rats and walking trees just being statistical flukes. But this didn't feel like magic. It felt a lot older than that. It felt like music.
Glod 'Door's too narrow.'
Buddy, coming up the stairs behind the troll, heard the crunch of woodwork.
'Try it again.'
'Fits perfectly.'
There was a piano‑shaped hole around the doorway. Glod was standing next to it, holding his axe. Buddy looked at the wreckage all over the landing.
'What the hell are you doing?' he said. 'That's someone else's wall !'
'Well? It's someone else's piano.'
'Yes, but . . . you can't just hack holes in the wall–’
'What's more important? Some wall or getting the sound right?' said ‑Glod.
Buddy hesitated. Part of him thought: that's ridiculous, it's
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment