The air was warm. The evening of Swan’s death ceremony had arrived. The green boat floated freely in the middle of the sound. Old Yann brought out a petrified reed into which he’d drilled several finger holes. In one end, he inserted a mouthpiece and in the other a bell made of foil. Maxim’s accordion keys were tinted orange by the sun’s low rays. The fact that his drum set was a collection of pots and pans made Roland no less of an expert.
No, goddammit! It's like when Frodo, and Sam Wise were rescued from the slopes of Mount Doom by giant eagles summoned by Gandalf! You'll see... you'll...
I think my wife might be reading this… but English is not her primary language. Thank you, Rollo!
Just two installments left?!$!? No way! I demand a sequel, who's with me....?
No, goddammit! It's like when Frodo, and Sam Wise were rescued from the slopes of Mount Doom by giant eagles summoned by Gandalf! You'll see... you'll...