(no subject)

[herr_bookman]

Autor pops his head in the door today, overjoyed to find the bar. He tucks his French primer under his arm with split knuckles and swiftly strides to the piano to pick out Chopin's Nocturne in E-flat major, Op. 9, No. 2.

The boy eases into the recurring, ornamented sections of notes, opening with a legato melody. He has a little trouble with the decorative trills and rhythmic freedom in the last section, but not with the subordinate melody, played with rubato. Since he can't play those bits, he simply starts over.

Someone might want to ask about that untreated cut on his forehead.

(no subject)

[realmrsreynolds]

Most of the time, Bar's suggestions for Sallie's dinner are pretty spectacular. This one though, she is examining a little dubiously.

"Why is my pasta sauce green, m'dear?"

Next to her plate of never-before-seen pesto linguine, an ingredients list appears.

"Exactly what culture is that in love with basil?"

OOM

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

[Through the years we all will be together
If the Fates allow
Until then we'll have to muddle through somehow
So have yourself a merry little Christmas now

Or, Christmas, 1940.]