The Song That Writes Itself

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2026-06-01 17:12:14 -

I. Julian Mercer sat on the edge of his bed in a room above a bar on Lenox Avenue and stared at his trumpet. It had been three months since he tried to play at the Cotton Club. Three months since he played three bars and then his lips went numb and his embouchure muscles refused to respond and the band leader stopped and the audience laughed and Julian walked off stage and has not picked up the...

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