In Search of Music
I shuffle along the sidewalk like an ant, following an invisible path for reasons I can’t discern anymore. I clutch my 4$ coffee defensively in one hand and scratch the stubble around my chin with the other. I haven’t shaved in days. As I pass through a narrow gateway to the train station, people bump and push to eliminate delays. I stumble into the turnstyle and fall to the ground. My coffee disappears into a nearby drain.
Ignoring the dirty looks, I pull myself off the ground and flop down on a nearby bench. I bury my face in my hands in search of just one moment of peace.
Strains of music begin to filter through the air, the sounds of a musician tuning his guitar.
I pick my head up and look for the source as the rhythm begins. I get up from the bench for reasons I can’t explain, and begin toward the sounds. They beckon me forward like a childhood memory, remembered feelings more than memories. The music is intoxicating, and soon, I am running in desperation to find the source of the haunting melodies.