By Robert T. Jeschonek
Terpsichore the inspiration has something for musicians. Her ardour breathes existence into the careers of stars from the Pied Piper of Hamelin to a modern day guitar hero. but if the newest in her lengthy line of celebrity unearths flames out, Terpsichore needs to faucet her personal internal wild baby for thought. Can she rock the highlight on her personal? Will the eternal groupie step as much as develop into America's idol, or will she crash and burn just like the avid gamers who went ahead of? It takes a muse to stand the song in an international the place the most well liked songs come from taking pictures stars who burn out rather than fading away.
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Extra resources for Ballad of the Groupie Everlasting
Gray had appeared out of nowhere just beside her. She felt her throat constrict, a feeling like a pinch just above her larynx. " Gray looked over at her with an affable smile—the whites of his teeth and of his eyes contrasting starkly with the tan of his face and his dark hair. He looked so much younger than Laura had imagined that she found herself questioning whether it really was him. But the eyes . . His smile was frozen on his face, no longer natural. He stared at her so intensely through squinted eyes that she was forced to look away—back at the Village below.
The car broke out onto an open field, the massive assembly building dominating the scene ahead filling the windshield. Laura was awestruck by the size of it. "In the early eighties, experimental work began on fifth-generation computers, and the first came on line in the mid-nineties. " The car slowed and turned into a circular drive. All around lay the treeless lawns she had seen from high above. The quiet electric car pulled to a stop in front of a mammoth bunker. Both Gray's and Laura's doors opened automatically, rising straight into the air with their faint whoosh.
What I have built here, Dr. Aldridge, is the first-ever sixth-generation computer. " Laura shrugged, then shook her head. Her attention was drawn to a lone statue on her left, and then to the long boulevard which the statue dominated. The broad street with its grassy median descended gently through the center of the Village away from the mountain. The car turned right onto the boulevard, and Gray craned his neck to look out the clear Plexiglas windshield at the rear. Laura, however, was enthralled with the sights of the bustling Village ahead.