The Harlem Club Musicians by cunningcoyote, literature
Literature
The Harlem Club Musicians
It happened a couple dozen years into the new century.
A Thoroughbred was on his way to the racetrack, sucking on a sugar cube and listening to the bird choirs greet the sun. About a mile down the road, he heard someone else singing, too, but it didn’t sound anything like the choir. It had a harsh sound, rough on the edges and mournful in the center, and the words had no jubilation. Sounded ugly. Sounded sad. But it sounded good, too.
He followed the song to a little acre of land, where he discovered a Mule dragging a plow behind her and singing what folks now call The Blues.
“Cousin!” he called out. “Cousin, itR