Right away Juno started flinging spells at Joni. They bounced off her like tennis balls off a wall. All over the room folks started coughing and scratching themselves and singing along out of tune. Juno hardly took in what Joni sang during the rest of her set. All she kept on thinking was, was it possible… could it be… Could it be she’d finally met another witch?
But deep down she knew that wasn’t the case. The feeling was real similar, but not identical. And once Joni’d finished her set to enthusiastic applause, it was easy for Juno to make her break two strings while she tried to stow her plectrum between them and her sad little kiddie guitar’s neck.
‘I guess now that she’s starting to make money from shows she’ll soon be able to buy herself a proper guitar,’ Juno said to her neighbour, a sturdy guy in his twenties wearing a shirt and tie and thick horn-rimmed glasses who right a this moment was a little irritable. Up until fifteen minutes ago, he’d reckoned he’d kicked the nasty cough he’d picked up by modelling for his cousin’s graduation sculpture, which was entitled Nude With Burst Pipe. The last thing he needed was another dumb art student.
‘Are you for real?’ he responded and looked disdainfully at the paint-stained hand that held Juno’s character’s coke. ‘It’s a ukulele, man! And she’s real good on it too! Good job we’re not all brushheads!’