It was the heart of winter and the winds billowed
through the streets covering them with the white powder typical of the
solstice. I walked penitently, pulling the collar of my wholly inadequate coat
to the brim of my nose in a desperate attempt to keep the freezing air out of
my lungs.
I had not
yet received any royalties off of the solo album I had spent months composing
and recording in a damp studio beneath Fifty First Street and money was getting
tighter and tighter. I wondered if I had any bread left in the apartment to
make some buttered toast. I wholly doubted it and was sure that ache in my
belly was not to leave for some time.
The snow
kept pushing further and further into my eyes as I walked toward my poorly
insulated apartment in hope of some shelter. I had a few inches on the many
candles around the flat that might give the few square feet a bit of warmth.
What could have
possibly happened? I thought it was a dynamite record as did my manager, but
nobody seemed to be buying. Once in a while I would head over to Toni’s Records
and examine my album in front of the other customers to possibly increase some
interest, but it was to no avail. Maybe it was time to write something new.
Something different. Maybe I could score some commercials or do a Christmas
album. Those always seemed to sell. Or perhaps I could do what everyone wanted
me to do. I could get a respectable job somewhere fixing shoes or work my way
into the bonds market. These were the thoughts that grazed my mind as I pushed
through the snow.
I came at
last to my small apartment and went to grab my key. I reached down into my
jacket pocket only to find an unfamiliar hole. There was no key. There was no
entrance.
Alas I sat
on the front steps to the building, unsure as to what would be my fate. Would I
freeze to death on these cold concrete steps? It seemed likely. I could not see
more than a few feet through the continuing blizzard and I could not get
inside. There was nowhere to go and I was unsure that my feet would take me. I
tried to breathe hot air onto my numbing fingertips but my breath cooled before
it reached its target.
All seemed
lost when out of the unbreachable torrent of frozen precipitate came a purple
parka and bright pink snow pants. The colorful figure approached the building
and me. It was a young woman. The brightness of her attire stood in stark
contrast to me in my dark, cold and inadequate drabs. She didn't notice me at
first with her eyes staring intently at the ground which became more and more
difficult to find. Once noticed, I gave the slightest of waves.
‘Oh! Hi!’
She said, ‘Have you been here long? Do you live in this building?’
‘I live in
this building yes. I've lost my key. I seem to have a hole in my pocket. I
don’t know what else to do. Could you perhaps let me in?’
‘Of course!
Even if you don’t live here it would be ludicrous to make you stay out in this
blizzard. You might die for heaven’s sake. Come in. We’ll call the landlord and
get you another key.’
‘Thank you.
Thank you.’
She helped
me indoors, and led me to her apartment. I was allowed to have a seat and my
gracious host got me a warm of tea. Once I had relaxed a little she sat down
across from me. She looked at me curiously.
‘I know you!
You’re a musician aren't you?’
‘Yes, yes I
am.’
‘I have your
record. I bought it at Toni’s a couple of days ago. This is so exciting! You’re
a genius.’
‘Beethoven
was a genius, I just write folk songs.’
‘But your
work is good. I like it.’
‘Well thank
you.’
We talked
and talked for hours and eventually started dating. We live together now and
she pays the rent while I write and sing and all is well.
No comments:
Post a Comment