Chapter 107
Chapter 107 Margaret was enchanting as she filled a splendiferous interlude with a drum solo using her crowd of pansdrum set. Wolanski had gotten drunk on himself and continued shaking around his bundle of empty cans. And finally, you had the indifferent strikes of a triangle from the Prison Guard who has wanted to go since earlier. It was perfection. A perfect session. Each person’s strong feelings collided, somehow making one powerful timbre while colliding off of each other. There was no score. No tune for reference. This improvised melody washed over its six musicians, amplified by their emotions, and a brand new song had been born. There was no audience to be charmed by its beauty, nor anyone to catalogue the score for future use. However, the spirit of this moment is somethi
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