no title necessary 0


no title necessary

just me and the music

The Duke plays quietly in the corner. The band’s eyes are shut, concentrating on the job in hand. Focussing on the music. Soul. I can see the Duke caressing the piano. The drummer, lost behind his dark glasses, is in his own separate world.

It is now totally dark out. Here in the conservatory I see the reflection of my screen on the glass. Removing my glasses the eyes get a rub. My eyesight is too bad to type without the specs.

The bassist absentmindedly tugs his strings and stares into the distance.

I am contemplating a quick trip to the pub. The working week, for what it was, is done. I will pick up where I left off on Monday. It will wait, the work. Anne and John are somewhere in the house. I am cut off.

A trumpeter breaks in. My head nods. Foot taps. Eyelids drop.

Welcome to my world. Come in. Sit down and say nothing. Talk is superfluous. I feel my chin. Need a shave. It’s the weekend. It will wait, the shave.

Guitarist now picks up the pace. The band’s heads all nod rhythmically, intently. I tap the table.

Suddenly I am awake. My mind feels it needs to do something. Think. Pick up some words and spin them with my fingers. Reflect my mood. I can see them dance in front of me. The darkness hides the walls. It’s a huge field in which to play. My head continues to nod.

I can feel it raining out. Hear it not see it. What it is like to lose my sight. My mouth opens. Sounds come out. Talking to myself and to the music. How long can it continue

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