I was alone in the alley and it was dingy. Pools of gray water were trapped in pits by the edges of the buildings. Pieces of garbage floated by in some while in others they had sunken beneath their miniscule waves. There was a smell to the place that could be said to be indescribable only in the sense that a person wouldn’t want to bother with the time and research it would take to find out to do so.
Shadows were everywhere; some layered deeply enough to become impenetrable by any light. Others were just on the edge of the cone of brightness from the bulb above. There was little of interest here, so why had I agreed to meet here?
In a fit of boredom and the need for a sense of control, I opened the case and pulled out the six string. Two string sets in double octaves that created a richer tone. The wood of the instrument fairly glowed under the poor street lamp.
Warily, I placed my hand against the strings and felt the roughness of the bound wire. My fingers curled into position and I strummed the strings ever so lightly. Melancholy filled the air and burgeoning light began to filter through one of the walls that enclosed the alley. An ancient song came to mind and the words fluttered to my lips. I played alone in that place for what felt like eternity yet must have only been a fleeting moment.
A voice spoke quietly from the edge of darkness, “Yes, my friend, I was right. This is a place for magic, where the walls between the universes are so very thin.”
His pointed teeth glittered like starlight from the blackest of the shadows as the strings under my fingers continued to vibrate their tones in this shabby space between buildings… between worlds.
(Photo by Kaique Rocha from Pexels https://www.pexels.com/photo/street-urban-japan-brasil-50859/)
Jon Gray Lang.com 