Lingering Glance (Patreon)

One of the benefits of writing for a niche genre is that I can make tributes to people and works I admire.  

(Choices are taken out for a better flow)

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"Why did you decide to go for music?" you ask, leaning on the wall next to him. "Why a bard of all professions?"

Lance takes his eyes off Chouriça when he turns his head to look at you. "Give a man a fire, and he’s warm for a day, but set him afire, and he’s warm for the rest of his life."

You smile at the play on words. "Clever."

"And wise," Lance says, matching your smile with a gold-toothed one. "Whether you interpret it literally or try to scrape for some shred of meaning."

"You said it. What's the meaning?"

Lance shakes his head. "It's flattering you think so, mercenary, but I did not. The words are taken from the lips of my master. Pratchett is his stage name." Lance's smile dims, but it's no less sincere. It looks nostalgic. "Outside of it, he likes to go by Terry."

His master must be the man who taught him how to perform after he escaped the monastery. "He sounds fun," you say kindly. 

"He is," Lance confirms. "In a one-of-a-kind sort of way."

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Rest in Peace, Terry Pratchett ❤️