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Flash fiction: The saxophone player

by Carissa Johnson

Created on: July 07, 2011

As the deep, passion-laced notes strained from the bell of the worn saxophone, the man swayed back and forth through the thick warm air as if in a trance. Though city traffic buzzed around his corner with the energy only San Diego could sustain, his eyes closed as if unaware even of its presence. His face showed no sign of acknowledgement with each clinking coin that found its way into the velvet-lined case at his feet, and he continued his sorrowful song until the sunlight reflecting from windows above his head disappeared.

By then, the story he was weaving with his song concluded, and his entire body slumped as it showed the effect of the emotion. His eyes opened only once he dropped to his knees as the last notes faded away, and he slowly blinked and looked around him as though he truly felt the aftermath of the story he had spent the day telling. He scooped up the change in his saxophone case and dropped it into his pocket. He then unhooked the beautiful instrument from his neck and lovingly laid it into the padding.

Hoisting himself to his feet, the man turned to walk down a dim street. He greeted a few old friends as they laid their dirty blankets down in doorways along his path, then pulled open the small store's door. The cashier who worked every Thursday night had just set a half-gallon of milk and a loaf of Wonder Bread on the counter, and the man dug into his pocket to empty it onto the counter. The cashier offered the man a small smile before dipping his head as he slowly counted each coin. As the last few pennies slid into his hand, he frowned and looked back up.

"Well, bud, looks like you only can afford the bread again tonight. Sorry about that." He dumped the coins into the cash register and stuffed the receipt into the plastic bag.

"It's all right."

The cashier offered an encouraging smile as the man turned to face the door. "Better luck tomorrow, I'll be seein' ya."

With a nod, the man leaned into the door as he began his walk home, where his wife and five hungry young mouths would be waiting to be fed, and he wondered if tonight would be the night when his children would finally go to bed hungry.

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