I'm in that town again, the one where everyone knows me. All but one, that is. I see her gently nod in my direction, asking her boyfriend, a tall drink of water named Alex (yes, I really know everyone here - he works in Zum Freischutz) about me. The town square is empty except for a lone saxophone player, and there will be no revolution today. He croons out sweetly with his horn, a tenor, the sound floats up towards the horizon, filling up the square with a delightful glow. There are a few people walking by, hand in hand. It's so serene it almost makes me scream. Time seems to stand still here. I love this town ...
I can't hear her, but I see her mouth the words to him,
"Is he british?"
"American ..." I read his lips whisper back.
They meander on, and I continue enjoying the music, leaning up against a post from the eighteen hundreds. All's quiet again. Soaking up a ghostly tune in the afternoon.
Peace. -Todd
Posted by calico at July 31, 2005 04:54 AM