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The Call

In by Chris on July 21, 2010 at 11:41 pm

The solo hit its climax; three notes tore out of the sax in dizzying patterns; the rest of the band ceased to play. The smoky people in the house lived in the space between their heartbeats and the cries of the instrument’s reed. As he inhaled to hit the highest note, the soloist suddenly wilted. The sax fell to his side on its strap. He panted for a moment, then lifted his tinted glasses and looked at each person in the crowd.

“I got to go,” he said.
“I been here too long now,
this town has worn me down.”

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