Mar 26, 2020
“So, what can I do for you? Or, more accurately, what can you do for me?”
“Oh, an equivalent exchange? You scratch my back, I scratch yours? Fine by me, daddio. Never did care much for Bells, anyway. Can’t carry them with no pockets.”
He shrugged, then went back to standing in place, arms waving at his sides.
“I need a shack, jack. A portable performance pavilion. It doesn’t need to be large... actually, it doesn’t need to be anything more than a simple stage. And in return... I’ll give you the gift of music. And two common butterflies.”
