Victorian Nocturne

Offenbach... Specifically, Barcarolle, from 'The Tales Of Hoffman'

By Michael West's estimation, it was going to take a while before phonograph cylinder could gain in sufficient quality to rival an actual night out at a concert hall, but it was the perfect cerebral accompaniment to a quiet evening's reading in the ship's library. Hearing the subtle crackle of contact, the crudely recorded sound of violins inching themselves into a tentative appearance of flutes, Michael closing eyes for a second or two's picturing of the orchestra. The melodic build was a careful one and, once assured of its tempo, a quiet smile was given, before the man eased himself down into seat; his book opening to lay spine upon crossed legs and renew its intellectual acquaintance with the reader.

London was quiet, the Inquisition was at rest and the Whitechapel was in no danger of sinking. All was well with the world and music gently began to fill the air.

What could possibly go wrong with that?

( Lightning in a Tube )

( Subtext )

( Project Phallus: )