Stars Over the Mississippi
The piano in the Blue Moon club smelled of bourbon and stale smoke, and Lucille Cross played it like she was trying to break through the bottom of the earth. Henry Webb first heard her on a Tuesday in April, three weeks after Chicago had decided he was no longer welcome in their astronomy department. He sat at a corner table, nursing a glass of bourbon he couldn't afford, listening to music...
0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 3 Views 0 önizleme