The Jazz of Names
I. The piano had been Elias Johnson's for twenty-three years, and when Charlie found it in the apartment on 135th Street, it was still tuned to the key of G minor—the key Elias always played in, the key that made the blues sound like something you could hold in your hands and cry into. Charlie sat on the stool, his large hands hovering over the keys, and played the first chord. It sounded like...
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