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    Summary

    Louis Armstrong said that if you have to ask what jazz is, you’ll never know, so I don’t bother asking. I just listen. And feel. Someday, when I have the time, I’ll study it like I did symphony. Like I did baroque, even.

     

    Moisture seeps into the corners of Will’s eyes. He can’t dig his fingernails into his forearm, as blunt and stubby as they are, so he settles for scraping their trim edges into the thin skin of his wrist. Foolishly, he thought he’d be accustomed to grief by now. After his mom, before his fifth birthday. After Sean, just a week after his nineteenth. And now, after his—

    A burst of percussion snaps Will out of his spiral.

    OR

    The one where a violinist tries to forget his freshly dead mentor, and in doing so, finds a drummer trying to forget his living one.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    11,623
    Chapters:
    4/5
    Comments:
    39
    Kudos:
    74
    Bookmarks:
    8
    Hits:
    912