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Weekly Contest #343
Dorie had just dropped off Simon. It was early, around 7, and the sun peeked from behind the palm-lined hill to the south of the school. Simon liked to be dropped off early on Tuesdays so that he could practice with the jazz band. So talented, that boy. She and Marcus had been in plenty of jazz clubs in their day, and Simon was just about better than anyone she had ever heard play. So, she’d tell him as often as she could, that he played like Louis or like Dizzy, his reaction always the same, a little smile as he shook his head, an unsuccess...
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