short stories

Busking

Every day on his way to work James would pass a guy in the underground station playing a saxophone with his eyes closed. There were always three things that stood out to him- how good it sounded, how the music reminded him of a jazz band he’d been in at Uni and how very beautiful he looked when he played.

James would sit behind his desk and look at numbers and data and he would hum to himself. The sax player’s tune was improvised, but some version of it always ended up lodged in his head. He would sit at meetings and talk about sales targets, but his mind would be on jazz.

 This was a routine he fell in to. 
And it was a routine that sucked the life out of him. 
One grey and dreary Tuesday he stood in front of the mirror, trying to put on a tie but finding it impossible to move his hands. It was 07.36. He had three minutes before he had to leave his house if he wanted to get to the Tube station for work. He started to reach for his briefcase, but changed his mind and picked up something much larger in stead. 
That day, commuters saw not only their usual sax player but a man in a suit and no tie next to him, plucking and twirling and spinning a double bass. 
When the improvised collaboration was over the sax player turned to James and, with a smile, said, “Coffee?”

 

via Daily Prompt: Collaboration

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