There is a rumour that floats through our world. The mere whisper of a rumour.
It dances through shadow and scurries under stars. It is a wisp that lingers in quiet places–where memories are lost–and only comes to the light when the world looks away.
What are the rumours?
That the musicality of Nate Chronik was a gift. An offering from the gods themselves.
From Apollo or Aphrodite.
Some even say Zeus.
It can’t be true.
Not a story as brash as that.
Of gods and magic and mortal man.
It can’t be true at all.
When he sits at the piano, or in front of the computer, you might see his lips move as he invokes the muses. And you’ll wonder, once again, if it might be true. If, perhaps, it’s worth another listen. Just one more. And perhaps, this time, if you entertain the possibility, you’ll hear something otherworldly that you’d missed before.
At the very least, you might find something you enjoy.