you'll marry a music man.

THE SCENE:

if you walk up the stairs, its dark but not yet late and quiet other then the faint sound of lyrical whispers. keep going.

you reach the top and hear music and see a light comming from the the middle door in the hall.

approaching it you hear these words "Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band,

Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you'll marry a music man" at full blast.

open the door, a room quite kept up but at the same time so misplaced, its nothing then paradoxical. books up to the top, photographs on the wall and instruments hanging from various places of the four sky colored walls. and you set your eyes on the bed.

sprawled across it, laying outstreched and outplayed is a teenage girl. maybe a lady, maybe just not their yet. her height stunted at 12 and looks like she just like just climbed mt. everest. she knows her future but doesnt know how to get there. brows furrowed and she bellows out more words but behind that