FOSSILS FLIP BOOK

libation. They did a sound check and went back to Fossdyke for an
afternoon nap.
They nervously ate their evening meal and headed down to the
Wellow. Dressed casually in well-creased summer slacks, with
collars, ties, and V-neck pullovers, they strutted along the sea road,
as if four elderly throw backs from Saturday Night Fever. They
arrived at the pub and a small crowd of youngsters were already
there. The four ordered drinks, went over and sat by the stage, close
to their gear.
The old musicians sat and watched as the bar started to fill with
people, who came to watch the live music. At 7:55pm, the four took
to the stage and their respective instruments and Cosmo went to the
microphone. There was sporadic chortle from the audience, who had
seen the old codgers sitting and drinking, and assumed they were
just old relics who come to watch the live music; nobody imagined
that THEY were the live music.
“Ladies and gentleman, please put your hands together for the
fabulous, Fossils,” announced Cosmo, introducing them. With
butterflies in their stomachs and, ignoring the chattering and
laughter coming from the young audience, they began playing.
They kicked off the playlist with Eric Clapton’s ‘Layla’, deciding
that their first song should be a well-known classic and give the
crowd a familiar sound, although looking around at the ages of
those present, Steve wondered whether half of them had ever even
heard of Clapton. They probably thought his name sounded like a
virulent form of a venereal disease.
Steve felt nervous once they got on stage; it had been many years
since he had played to an audience. He could hear laughter and jibes
about their ages coming from the youngsters, so he avoided eye
contact with the crowd until he started to play the opening riff. His