I am no musician, not with these big meaty mitts, but I sure enjoy good music, like to go to that little pub where the act sets up right there in the corner, like to sit close at the nearest table to watch and listen.
This guy the other night, man he was something, just himself and a well worn but well tuned acoustic six string, and man, well, like I say, I am no musician but he was something to hear and to see. He had these thick glasses half hidden by his tangled mop of hair, and I don’t think he was seeing anything anyway he was so intent, just playing, his music just amazingly clean and clear. He was very versatile, as skillful a picker as anyone I’ve ever heard, but my eyes ended up focused on his left hand, flowing up and down the neck of his guitar, his fluid fingers like nothing I’ve seen, wringing the most amazing sounds from that old guitar of his.
Finally pausing, mopping his brow, wiping his glasses, he announced that he had gotten a big break, had a recording contract and was heading to a major studio in a couple days but as he was doing all this his glasses slipped and skidded to a stop near where I sat. I don’t think this guy can hardly see without his glasses, because I had already picked them up to hand them to him when he bent over and was feeling about for them on the floor, but I didn’t expect that and I can’t tell you how bad I felt when I heard that awful crunch of his left hand under my big dumb boot.
This six sentence story written for Unchartered Life under the Radar cue word “fluid”.