It was a hot June afternoon and the sweat rolled off his back. To try and relieve the heat boiling off of him, he opened the window.
A cool, patchy breeze blew over his body, momentarily raising goose bumps. A sigh of relief escaped his lips. Then his ears picked up a melody flowing in the breeze. It was Louie Armstrong’s La Vie en Rose. A beautiful song that always took him back to when he was young. He closed his eyes.
In his twenties, he had started to dabble in the art of jazz. It seemed to come naturally to him and soon he was living the life of a musician. He remembered one time playing this very same song to a crowded room. He raised his arms and pretended to play, seeing himself in that long ago venue.
All too soon, the song ended and faded away with the breeze. He opened his eyes and saw his upraised arms ending in mangled stumps. He would never play again. He sighed his sadness into the fading breeze.