I was waiting for the bus the other day on an otherwise empty street somewhere in Seattle Center. It was cool out and breezy and mostly the only sound was the occasional car going by and the wind rustling the leaves.
After a while though I started hearing, or imagining I was hearing, someone playing a song on violin, a tune I know I'd heard before, but only once. I could only hear the faintest wisps of it over the sounds of the city, but it conjured fleeting images in my mind: the first real day of spring, a girl playing violin barefoot on the lawn, a street corner on Pike.
The bus came about the time I almost figured out where I'd heard it before, or rather, why it stuck in my memory like that. It was getting late and the music wasn't showing any sign of stopping and the city was going to sleep so it was getting quiet enough I could hear it more clearly--but the buses don't run very often this late at night and I was getting cold and it was starting to rain.
Another secret I'll never learn.
20100523
a little musical number
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