THE HEALING ARTS BY AGNES O’CONNOR 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 59
“Just do your magic, love. I’m feeling a little taut today.” Noble Warrington closed his eyes as Bolivia took a hot towel out of a steamer and and placed it on his face.
“How’s the temperature?”
“Puuuuuhfect.” He had no hard R’s. Oh great! A Brit! He was probably finicky in that snippy British way and would complain to Ms Lorraine should she buff his epidermis too hard. Six months of anatomy, biochemistry, reflexology, and aesthetic training were going up in smoke.
LUCILLE BY JOHN HILL 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 59
In back of the hotel there was a white Lincoln stretch limo which belonged to the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll himself. But still I wasn’t prepared for the moment when I was transformed from a relatively seasoned, blasé professional to a crazy fan. I stepped into the elevator, pressed eight, and turned around to see—Little Richard! I began babbling. “You’re the reason I went into music. I have all your records.”