He emerged from central station and positioned himself against a wall. A youngish white man in jeans & a long sleeved T-Shirt. He removed his guitar from the case, and threw in some change to plant the seed, swivelled to face the pedestrians and began to play. The music, and his voice so sweet.
I’d walk past each day, and toy with myself, do I stop and listen, or just hurry past and throw in a buck. Then one day I stopped! We talked briefly, and I hadn’t realised how much time had passed, and hadn’t noticed people walking by. Just for that moment, time had stopped.
He was a kind man, with a kind face, and had experienced so much through his lifetime, which made for interesting conversation. His music had not taken him where he’d wanted, and there were many failed relationships, as he battled with his demons.
After a period of time getting to know him, I suggested we go out for a meal to my favourite Italian restaurant which had that aire of romance, and stacks of atmosphere. The dishes were cheap, simple but authentic. There are no pretensions to grandeur, this is a good honest Italian restaurant. We drank two bottles of wine, laughed and talked for hours. People filled the restaurant whilst we were oblivious to what was going on around us.
until next time
yours truly
Writbitz
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