Anastasia the Musician
Anyway, I keep imagining a glass window falls from a building and cuts my throat.
Hey Mallory, I broke your picture frame.
Oh… it… it’s okay, Anastasia.
I’m sorry, Mallory! I couldn’t stop dancing! It was an accident.
Anastasia, perhaps you could use a new creative outlet for all your energy.
Have you ever thought of playing a musical instrument?
Say, that’s not a bad idea, Abacus!
Mmm… oh, yes, Anastasia, you should play something. Zee rhythm, she is inside you.
I could be one of them, you know, fancy musicians!
Anastasia, you could play zee harp… or zee violin, she is nice.
Oh! I like that one.
Perhaps something simpler, like a trumpet or a fife?
That’s the one I want. I want that one.
Four to six weeks later…
My goodness, Mallory! Look at me and my music machine!
Oh Anastasia, she is beautiful!
Why, I sound terrible! How come I’m not a rock star?
Hmm… may I try?
Mmm… Anastasia, you ‘ave to practice. Music, she takes time and patience, like foreplay.
Time? Patience? I don’t have those!
I wish I had musical talent like you, Mallory!
Oh Anastasia, I don’t ‘ave musical talent.
Sure you do! Even when you throw up it sounds lovely!
Mmm… um, zat’s just because whenever I do drugs, I barf music.