They were the first chords she got down cold, that gave her a tingle that lasted for hours until Katy intruded with demands to do laundry, wash dishes or practice hymnals she had to memorize until her throat rang raw. Save the motherfucking prayers, she thought, angry that she hadn’t ...
The disk goes into the CD changer and I turn it up a little more than the normal setting—and the guitar chords of “Suite for Judy Blue Eyes” come darting out like a troup of actors in a Medieval morality play: vivid and familiar characters, breathing in front of me, promoting inspir...