A Warmup, of sorts
Nov. 1st, 2005 07:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
forsyth"There's only so much harpsichord a man can stand. You see that, don't you?" Saul asked, staring around at the horrified audience.
At his feet lay the tangled and splintered shards of what had been an antique harpsichord. Its former player was standing at the edge of the stage, the now-mateless stool held protectively in front of him. "Who...who are you? Do you have any idea what you've done!?" the shocked performer demanded
Saul looked at the axe in his hand, then down at the wreckage he stood in. "I think I can puzzle it out," he said.
At his feet lay the tangled and splintered shards of what had been an antique harpsichord. Its former player was standing at the edge of the stage, the now-mateless stool held protectively in front of him. "Who...who are you? Do you have any idea what you've done!?" the shocked performer demanded
Saul looked at the axe in his hand, then down at the wreckage he stood in. "I think I can puzzle it out," he said.
