Rick Hall

摘要

When he drew back the curtains and looked out the window, the freak was still there in the parking lot, crashed out in his ratty sleeping bag under a makeshift tarpaulin tent. How long had he been out there now? Three, four days? Weird kid, red hair down to his waist. Just him and his guitar. Rick shook his head. Kid must be loco. But then again, where had Rick been sleeping these past two nights? On the studio floor, that's where - too obsessed with the work in hand to make it home to the wife and kids. He smiled, opened the door and yelled. 'Hey! Cuppa coffee?'