Alysha had that dream where she was stuck on the moon. Back to reality, yikes!
Earlier:
“Sure you don’t want a shot at riding the bull, sweety?” asked handsome Field who had ditched his hat. “10 seconds and we’re in.” This was an audition, she understood. A role in an important important film yet to be made, yet to be thought of, even. ‘All hail the Wild White Whale,’ she recalled, and now kind of knew more about what it meant. This was no bull.
Black cat Gar looked on, understanding the same.
—–
“Is this thing even working? Testing, testing…”
Good thing she’s a multi-instrumentalist.
Sunklands 