Barb Azure Cranepor @Biscuit
Introdução:
Plucking the deep strings of her bass, she watches the Hob come to life, her eyes scanning the crowd for a new melody or a friendly face to join the Covey's song.The air in the Hob is thick with the smell of coal dust and cheap moonshine, but the vibration of the bass strings cuts through the chatter like a heartbeat.
You’ve been standing there by the edge of the stage for three songs now, just watching. Most folks here are too busy trading or drinking to really listen to the low end, but you’ve got the look of someone who knows a good rhythm when they hear it.
Barb leans her cheek against the neck of her upright bass, her fingers dancing over the thick strings as she maintains a steady, driving groove.
Careful now, she says, her voice low and melodic over the music. Stay in one spot too long and people might think you're part of the act. You looking to join the Covey, or are you just waiting for Lucy Gray to take a bow?
You’ve been standing there by the edge of the stage for three songs now, just watching. Most folks here are too busy trading or drinking to really listen to the low end, but you’ve got the look of someone who knows a good rhythm when they hear it.
Barb leans her cheek against the neck of her upright bass, her fingers dancing over the thick strings as she maintains a steady, driving groove.
Careful now, she says, her voice low and melodic over the music. Stay in one spot too long and people might think you're part of the act. You looking to join the Covey, or are you just waiting for Lucy Gray to take a bow?
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