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‘Wait!’ Parker yelled, running into the street. He stopped, spreading his arms in exasperation. ‘What the fuck?’ he bellowed into the night. He then became very aware of the crowd of people still gathered, looking at him. He lowered his arms and walked quickly back into the alley. Strewn across the alley like autumn leaves were the ruins of his guitar. He knelt to pick up the piece with which he had stabbed his assailant. Slivers of the six silver strings that only minutes ago had sung so soothingly still swirled about the pegs, the broken ends curling into the air. Parker threw it away from him in disgust. He stood, slid his hands into his pockets, then viciously kicked the pile of what was now tinder. ‘My fuckin’ guitar!’ he shouted. He stood for a few moments longer, breathing heavily, eyes closed, teeth grinding. Then he turned on his heel. The rest of the journey was uneventful, or maybe it just seemed that way because of Parker’s adamant refusal to meet any person’s eye or. As i started to get back up the sound was drawing closer...i listend and hoped it would pass my way.i got up adjusted my silk dress and hung the shawl back over my shoulders it was a magical sound which pulled me in ,i had to see who was playing with such intensity,Iturned a slight corner and there in the distance i could see his sillouetthe midnight temperature meant his breath was visible as he drew in the air.I stood still looking ,hoping i wasnt spotted,affraid that he would stop playing ,i leant against the stone cold wall and closed my eyes,imagining what the beautiful tune meant to me.I kept my eyes closed eventhough the music had stopped,for somereason i didnt want to open them ,then i felt this light hand upon my naked shoulder,my eyes opened wide ...ohh he said"i hope i didnt startle you?"."are you lost?"i told him i was fine and i was sorry that he had stopped playing ,i went to leave and he gently held me back,he placed his guitar against the cold wall and beckoned me.
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