Lucas Davies fell down the rabbit hole (phantos) wrote in musingslogs, @ 2011-06-23 13:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | alice |
Who: Lucas (narrative)
What: Open Mic Night
Where: Random bar
When: Thursday night
Warnings: None
Music was something special to him, something he indulged in to chase the day away, whether it meant getting up on stage and partaking in bad karaoke with drunken onlookers or some smokey, dark little bar with a tiny wooden stage and sign-ups for open mic, it was his escape. The evening found him at a dark little bar he found while wandering the streets of Seattle (as he was wont to do), and the temptation of an open mic night had him dragging his guitar along with that evening. Lucas didn't write his own music, didn't write his own lyrics, but he enjoyed letting the songs he adored oh so much to run through him and his fingers, singing for himself, singing for everyone else that watched.
The smoke hung heavy in the air, a fog that echoed the fog that lingered outside. His guitar was old, well-worn and well-loved, and it was all the accompaniment he needed.