Becca and the Sneaky Violinist: Part 2
Post by Onna Carr
“I have played The Phantom in ten venues for six years,” I said. “That may be so, but managerial command takes precedent even over your ten venues and six years, Sir,” Becca stated, holding her ground. I then took the clipboard from Becca in hasty anger, and Becca turned to sort and file a stack of completed forms into a cabinet.
As I sat down in a chair to fill out the paperwork, I noticed a small boy a few seats down from me intently writing upon a clipboard. The boy looked to be about six-years-old. He had red hair that went to his ears and penetratingly unearthly eyes. He looked out of place in the modern office, and he had the air of a sprite or leprechaun about him. The boy wore a long sleeved, un-tucked white shirt that was somewhat medieval in style, a vest, carpenter pants, and rain boots.
“Are you auditioning too?” I questioned the boy. “No. I am writing an essay on the foibles of fungi,” the boy replied. “Sounds fascinating. You look like you’re one of their fairies,” I said with a smile. “No, I’m Benjamin Silverbridge,” the boy answered. “So, who do you belong to?” I asked. “I belong to God, but I live with Becca,” Ben said in answer, nodding to Becca as she got up and went to a side table, where an electric kettle and coffeepot stood with an apartment fridge beside that housed cream in its interior and a capacious sugar bowl on top of its exterior.
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