The Last Dance at the Halo
The piano in the Halo Club had a sticky F-sharp that Tommy Brennan had never been able to fix. It stuck every time, like a tongue that refused to form the right word, and Tommy played around it the way you play around a wound—carefully, respectfully, without touching it directly. It was November 1919, and the Halo Club was packed, and the war was over, and nobody could agree on what "over"...
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