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“Yiiiiikes! Who is that?!” Thalia tightened her sweater around her shoulders.
Calliope rubbed charcoal dust from the heel of her palm. “Some guy Drawist nicked from Instagram… Quiet… and interesting. What’s his story, I wonder?”
“I prefer —” Tal leaned in and examined the cigarette, “princesses and muses!”
Urania admired Drawist’s growth. “Me too, and yet — a hairy, wrinkled, squinter delivered — an exciting dash of dimension?”
It is the stretched soul that makes music, and souls are stretched by the pull of opposites — opposite bents, tastes, yearnings, loyalties. Where there is no polarity — where energies flow smoothly in one direction — there will be much doing but no music.
~ Eric Hoffer