The time was three-thirty in the morning. She had just turned off the light in her bunk to settle in and possibly get a little sleep before the tour bus rolled into the suivant stop around 9am (if they were lucky. Lucky had not been on their side on this leg of the tour.). In the dark, even above the mechanical hum of the bus motor, the multiple refrigerators and the light snoring of one exhausted drummer, she could hear someone chant softly. The stylist pulled her curtain back just a bit, wondering if she could hear a little better.
Closing her eyes, she tried to place...
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