Fight Like a Brave

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

I walked into the hospitality suite looking for Flip when it turned out I had, in fact, managed to not bring the charger for my pager. There I didn’t find Flip but I did find Waldo, Martin, and Charlie the flugelhorn player. Charlie’s iron-gray hair was slicked back against his head into a stubby pony tail but that only emphasized the kind of Ichabod Crane look to him: hooked nose, skinny limbs, long fingers.

“Where and when can we rehearse tomorrow?” I asked Waldo, thinking it was a no-brainer kind of question.

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