Real gold

Barry clicked the mic signals off and took his hands from the knobs and dials in front of him.  “Good take, guys,” he called out the door, “Want to hear what gold sounds like?”  The band shuffled in.  He offered sandwiches and sodas before taking a pipe off the shelf and passing the greens around in a circle.  In silence, the music played back.  Metallic notes danced around snare hits like they were maypoles.  “It’s alchemy,” Barry said.  “It’s goddamned alchemy.”


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