for a preface, see the home page of my work stories: Paradise (aka The Job)
Picture the scene: an entryway flanked by tall white pillars, double doors opening to a wide ballistraded staircase, comfortable couches pulled up near a gleaming grand piano. The mysterious, mellow sounds of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata are floating through the air as a volunteer pianist gives it her best amateur tinkling of the keys. Someone yawns theatrically. Perhaps that's to be expected of elderly people in the boondocks of Minnesota trying to digest classical music. Then in the midst of a melody that calls up images of mist over a full moon, someone makes an announcement to her neighbor, and loudly. "I didn't come here for this kind of music."
Um, you're welcome?
Some people are always ungrateful. It's a lifestyle, nearly.
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