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  • William Inglis

The Sound of Music

A D chord.


Twanged from the battered, beat-up old telecaster in the roadie’s hands. It’s his brief moment of fame in front of thousands.


They are a crowd consisting of craning necks, crowning t-shirt and jeans combinations.


Just waiting. And waiting.


Because it would be more than worth it. The ticket cost more than an arm and a leg. But it would be worth it.


And for his last trick, the roadie disappears.


Gone. Forgotten.


His moment will come again tomorrow.


Another venue, another crowd, another D chord.


Not the music that they came to see, but a vital part of the musical beast.

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