Her fingers hurt, but it felt wonderful. Placing her violin in its case,
she mentally prepared for the rigors of the audition that awaited her.
Okay, don't lose control. Watch the high A at the end of the first section.
Take your time. Play what you know.
Rejection in Prison
There was crying. His last night in port and there had to be someone crying. The pirate rolled his dark brown eyes in annoyance. Why did this always seem to happen?
He studied his drink, a trippy concoction of rum and sea salt. It was good, went down easy, wasn't too sweet, but not too bitter. It was also almost gone. Rising from his dark corner for a refill, he noted with unwanted interest that the crying was still going strong.
Reaching the bar, he spotted who exactly was doing the crying. As the wench on duty went to fill his bottle, he stooped down to see a young woman dripping a hell of a lot of salt into her glass. The crying needed to be stopped, he thought. Really, for the drink's sake. She was castrating the poor cocktail.
"Pardon me, love," he said. "I just be wonderin'.why the tears? Kills the atmosphere, I'll tell you that."
The woman raised her head. "None o' yer business. I also don't give a witch's backside what atmosphere I'm killin'. Go find yer booty elsewhere, pirate." She turned back to her drink.
"Sorry, love. If that's the way things be." He likewise turned back to the bar, where his drink was sitting. With that, Captain Jack Sparrow sauntered back to his table, then out the door. Giving a classic pirating wink, he stole away to the docks, creatively acquiring another bottle from the Prison Bar to add to his pilfered collection.
Rejection in Prison
There was crying. His last night in port and there had to be someone crying. The pirate rolled his dark brown eyes in annoyance. Why did this always seem to happen?
He studied his drink, a trippy concoction of rum and sea salt. It was good, went down easy, wasn't too sweet, but not too bitter. It was also almost gone. Rising from his dark corner for a refill, he noted with unwanted interest that the crying was still going strong.
Reaching the bar, he spotted who exactly was doing the crying. As the wench on duty went to fill his bottle, he stooped down to see a young woman dripping a hell of a lot of salt into her glass. The crying needed to be stopped, he thought. Really, for the drink's sake. She was castrating the poor cocktail.
"Pardon me, love," he said. "I just be wonderin'.why the tears? Kills the atmosphere, I'll tell you that."
The woman raised her head. "None o' yer business. I also don't give a witch's backside what atmosphere I'm killin'. Go find yer booty elsewhere, pirate." She turned back to her drink.
"Sorry, love. If that's the way things be." He likewise turned back to the bar, where his drink was sitting. With that, Captain Jack Sparrow sauntered back to his table, then out the door. Giving a classic pirating wink, he stole away to the docks, creatively acquiring another bottle from the Prison Bar to add to his pilfered collection.